Terrifié
by Calypso in Love
Summary: Hermione is abused by her uncle. She's at Hogwarts, scared as always, but someone is noticing her strange behavior... Malfoy. And as he watches her, is he slowly falling in love with a girl who's terrified of him?
1. Vixenish Ways

Terrifié 

Chapter One [Vixenish Ways]

Discaimer: I usually only do one of these, so here goes. I don't own any of the characters, the places, the spells, the potions, the concepts of Hogwarts and the wizarding world, or anything else you may recognize from the great works of revered J.K. Rowling, the Goddess of Creation. 

Summary: About Hermione, who's been/being sexually and physically abused by her uncle Don who lives with her family. She goes off to Hogwarts, as scared of men as always, but someone starts to notice her strange behavior towards members of the opposite sex… Draco Malfoy. And as he covertly watches her deal with the Hogwarts boys and men, is he slowly falling in love with a girl who hates herself? And who, more than anything, is terrified of him and the feelings he awakens in her…how can love triumph? 

AN: This is my first and last AN for this story, I believe. I think that answering your reviews at the end of each chapter will result in my usual silliness, and that will not do for this story, so if you have questions in your reviews either e-mail them to me at givvies@hotmail.com or I'll answer them by posting my own answering review in the review section, just check back. Be aware though, that I love and adore each of you monkeys who review. Mwah! Let the angst-ilicious angst-athon begin!

Prologue-

He loomed over her, taking off her clothes gently and entering her gently, yet oh so painfully. Sweat glistened on both of them, yet it was all his sweat. 

Hermione lay under him and she stared at the ceiling while she pretended that there was no pain. No pain at all. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12.... 12 times only, that he'd done this so far. That didn't include the beatings that had gone on for too long to remember. And soon she'd be going back to Hogwarts, where he couldn't hurt her anymore. No more pain, at least until Christmas. And summer. And… a tear slid down Hermione's bruised cheek. 

When he left, she drew the hot blankets over her body, ignoring the stifling summer heat… she was shivering.

________________________________________________________________________

Chapter One

Hermione stood in front of the bathroom mirror. The little circle she had rubbed in the glass, surrounded by condensation from her long shower, slowly grew larger as she stood there. 10 minutes. 20 minutes. 30 minutes. 

The bruises came into view slowly, until the mirror was clear and she could see herself standing there, sullen face staring, darkened cheeks, eyes, arms, chest, hips, legs. She closed her eyes, but opened them again after a moment, then set to work spreading her concealer over the marks.

Her shoulders slumped and she leaned on the counter, still staring at herself dejectedly in the mirror. Willowy figure, wavy, slightly frizzy brown hair, high cheekbones and pert nose, uptilted almond-shaped chocolate eyes, milky complexion dusted with freckles. A beauty, she acknowledged, yet like so many abused ones, she had a way of blending in, disappearing so that no boy had ever noticed her beauty, no man except for him…

________________________________________________________________________

Hermione sat down at the table and obediently drank her orange juice. Her Mother smiled at her.

"Hermione darling, you're off to Hogwarts today! Aren't you happy?" Hermione nodded her head slowly, but how could she be _happy_? She couldn't remember the last time she had been truly, really happy. Before he came? 8 years ago? 

Even when she was with her friends at Hogwarts, she knew inside of her how different she was, how dirty she was. She couldn't tell them. They would hate her. They would see her as the filthy vixen with whorish ways that she knew she really was, like he told her she was. She believed him. He was infallible, wasn't he? If he wasn't infallible, how could he control her body, her soul, her very thoughts? Even when he was miles away, everywhere she looked, she saw _him_. 

Hermione Granger was terrified of men. Boys. Males as a whole. She was glad boys didn't notice her. She had been so frightened of Harry and Ron at first. When she had heard them talking about her, she had cried. She hadn't heard what they were saying, of course, but just hearing her name on their lips - their lips which could dominate hers, -terrified her. 

When they had saved her, she had accepted them. She loved them now; almost like Ginny did, in that adoring way. Although she didn't act like it, she worshipped them. They were the only males who wouldn't hurt her, who wouldn't be susceptible to her lustful, sinful ways. They were her protectors against the big bad predators of Hogwarts. 

Her Father walked into the kitchen, whistling. She smiled, jumped up and hugged him. He was her supreme, she remembered the days with him, the days before _he _had come and shown her what she made men do. Her Father smiled cheerfully. 

"Ah Hermione, I'll miss you! Your sixth year though! Imagine!" He said, ruffling her hair. "Don is coming down now, Miranda, you'd better get some more bacon on, you know how grumpy he is in the morning." Gerry did not notice the fear that flashed over his daughter's face for a second before she covered it with a smile and sat down at the table, eating methodically, shivering slightly. She heard thumping on the stairs and stuffed toast in her mouth, so that she would have an excuse not to reply if he said anything. Don came into view.

He was in his mid-thirties, slightly overweight, tall, with black hair, black eyes, and a natural charm which the ladies adored. Miranda's black-sheep, mischievous, 'lovable' brother who lived with them and worked at a bar. He winked at Hermione.

"You seem cheerful this morning, Donny my boy!" exclaimed Gerry from behind a newspaper. 

"Had a good night, a _really _good night," He said, winking at Hermione again. She stared at her plate. Nobody noticed. Nobody ever did.

________________________________________________________________________

Don drove Hermione to the station, since her parents had to work at their dentist office. The car ride was silent. They pulled up in front of the station and Hermione hurriedly got out of the car. Don grabbed her arm before she could make her escape, yanking her into the car and smiling with that charm that was really well-disguised sadism. 

"Don't I get a farewell kiss, little girl?" He asked her, pulling her to him for a possessive kiss that tasted of stale alcohol. Hermione winced as he released her, giving her a 'little' push that sent her sailing into the passenger door of the car. She stumbled out backwards, holding back her tears. 

Grabbing her trunk out of the boot, she barely noticed when it banged against her leg painfully, and nearly started crying with relief when Don gave a cheerful wave and drove off. She sat down on the trunk heavily, putting her head in her hands. She sat like this for a while, until she felt someone sit down beside her on it. She looked up into the grey eyes of Draco Malfoy, the biggest evil at Hogwarts, as far as she was concerned. 

She jumped backwards, sliding off the trunk and sprawling on the ground with a yelp, then started to back away, still on the ground. Malfoy looked at her with a bemused expression. "Gee, clumsy today, aren't we Mudblood? I saw you fall out of your car."

Hermione shook her head vehemently. 

"I-I didn't fall out of the c-car…" She mumbled, her frightened eyes fixed on him, as though trying to convince him. Malfoy furrowed his brows. What was up with Granger?

"You're going to ruin your dress if you keep on scrambling around the ground like the lowly Mudblood you are, Granger." He said, gesturing to the too-large white sundress that went down to her ankles. 

Hermione stood up quickly, adjusting her light blue cardigan, which was buttoned up fully, and patted her hair, pulled into a bun that would rival McGonagall's for strictness. 

"You sure have boring taste in clothes, Granger." Malfoy commented idly, his eyes taking in her outfit. Hermione folded her arms over her chest in an unconscious protective gesture. She simply nodded her head. 

"Aren't you going to tell me get off? Or at least sit down? This _is _your trunk, or did you forget?" Malfoy asked, smirking. 

Hermione shook her head 'no', and he frowned. What was wrong with the chit? She was supposed to be yelling, or slapping him, or something. He got up from the trunk and stood in front of her, noticing her eyes widen and her chin quiver.

"Well? Slap me? Do something! Or are you just afraid without the Wonder boys around?" 

She blinked and made no response. Malfoy rolled his eyes and walked off, over to his Slytherin cohorts. 

"There's something wrong with that Muddy Gryff." He said to Blaise Zabini. 

Blaise Zabini glanced in Hermione's direction, she was once more huddled on her trunk, hugging her books to her chest, head down. 

"Always has been. One day I put a hand on her shoulder to ask her for the Newt's eyes in Potions, and she had tears in her eyes, I swear. Suppose she thought I'd eat her or something, set Salazar's ghost on her." Blaise laughed and turned back to his girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson. 

Draco stared at Hermione for a second longer before he shook his head and turned towards Crabbe and Goyle. 

________________________________________________________________________

The train pulled to a stop and students poured out of it. Harry and Ron had showed up, much to Hermione's relief, and lifted her spirits with their witty jokes, Quidditch talk and all together cuteness. They filed into the Great Hall and Hermione stared up at the ceiling.

She remembered a night, before _him_. Her Father had taken her out to the countryside, and they had lain in a field, staring up at the stars that she had never seen so bright. 

Harry tugged her arm and pulled her over to the banquet table, sitting her down next to him. Ron sat across from them. Hermione gestured anxiously for him to sit on the other side of her, and rolling his eyes, he started to stand. He had temporarily forgotten how Hermione insisted on having the two of them on either side of her whenever she sat down anywhere. He didn't mind really, but still, it was annoying how much importance she placed on this. Before he was even all the way out of his chair, though, Neville had plopped himself down next to Hermione. Ron shrugged apologetically.

Harry wondered what was wrong with Hermione. They were now eating desserts, and she had spent the entire banquet huddled tightly against him. He knew she didn't like him like _that_, he and Ron had surmised long ago that their slightly clingy friend didn't like _any _males like that, at least none at Hogwarts. And they highly doubted that she liked some Muggle boy. But tonight, she seemed extra jumpy. She was so close to him she was practically in his lap, and she shook occasionally. Particularly if Neville said anything to her.

"Hermione, it's just Neville, he won't bite you!" Harry whispered to her. Hermione ignored him and went back to methodically putting food in her mouth. He glanced over at Ron, jerking his head toward Hermione with a cocked eyebrow. Ron studied for a minute before shrugging and mouthing 'later'. Harry nodded and sighed.

Hermione took another small bite of cheesecake and nearly choked on it when Neville's thigh brushed hers when he leaned over to get some partridgeberry topping. Their eyes met and Neville looked confused as Hermione nearly dissolved into Harry, shrinking backwards. He hook his head sadly and prodded Lavender, who sat next to him.

"Lavi, I don't think Hermione wants to sit next to me. Switch seats?" He asked dejectedly. He had always thought Hermione was rather nice, but apparently she couldn't stand the thought of touching him, let alone being his friend. Lavender smiled kindly and they switched seats. She grasped Hermione's hand and pulled her closer to herself, farther from Harry.

"Hermione, what's up? I think you really hurt Neville's feelings, you didn't touch him all night!" Hermione seemed visibly relaxed.

"I-I… Lavi, I was just worried that he… um, would notice that I didn't wash my hair." She whispered. Lavender accepted this doubtfully, looking at Hermione's long, clean brown hair that was pulled into the usual bun and looked perfectly clean. She and Parvati shared a worried glance. Hermione had always been a bit iffy by their standards, but she was still one of their closest friends, they _had_ roomed with her for 6 years. Something was up…

________________________________________________________________________

Hermione left the common room early; unable to bear the worried glances she was getting from Lavender, Parvati, Harry and Ron any longer. She ran up the stairs and closed the door behind her, breathing hard and letting a tear stroll down her cheek, leaving a black streak as it washed away some concealer. 

The banquet had been unbearable, she had known that she was leading Neville into her web of satanic seduction, but she couldn't control herself, she never could. Her mind flew back to her encounter with Malfoy, that had been even worse. He was strong, probably virile… probably just like Don… Hermione whimpered and ran into the bathroom, washing her face in the dark. 

The rain poured down on Hogwarts, beating on her window as she climbed into her bed. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the scared face of a small girl, and the clap of thunder accentuated the bang the bed's scarlet curtain made when it flew along it's rail and smacked into the golden post of the Gryffindor bed. Hermione lay down, pulling the scarlet and gold sheets and duvet over her and shivering as she fell asleep, looking around the bed when it was brightened with scarlet light every time the lightning came, as thought she expected to see _him _there. He was everywhere, he was infallible, wasn't he? 

TBC

________________________________________________________________________


	2. Poisonous Potion: Cat and Mouse

Terrifié 

Chapter Two [Poisonous Potion: Cat and Mouse]

****

Last Time:

The rain poured down on Hogwarts, beating on her window as she climbed into her bed. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the scared face of a small girl, and the clap of thunder accentuated the bang the bed's scarlet curtain made when it flew along it's rail and smacked into the golden post of the Gryffindor bed. 

Hermione lay down, pulling the scarlet and gold sheets and duvet over her and shivering as she fell asleep, looking around the bed when it was brightened with scarlet light every time the lightning came, as thought she expected to see _him _there. He was everywhere, he was infallible, wasn't he? 

______________________________________________________________________________

Hermione woke an hour before her roommates and showered, applying her healthy dose of concealer. By the time Parvati and Lavender stumbled out of bed, Hermione was sitting on hers, dressed in her uniform with her hair up in her bun, bright-eyed and doing homework that hadn't yet been assigned.

"Hermione! How can you be doing homework? This is the first day of school!" Lavender complained. 

"I asked McGonagall for some extra homework for the summer, Lavi." Hermione said quietly, staring at the page she was writing in. Parvati groaned and threw a pillow at her.

"Back to her old self, it seems." She whispered to Lavender. They smiled at each other and started getting ready. 

______________________________________________________________________________

Hermione walked down the stairs and looked around the common room. Harry and Ron were waiting for her and playing a game of chess. 

"Guys! We'll be late for breakfast! Come on!" Hermione said, exasperated.

"But Mione, we've got to finish this game! You go on ahead!" Ron whined in reply. 

Hermione glanced apprehensively over to the portrait hole, where a group of seventh year boys were standing. 

"But, Ron…" She said, nodding her head towards the group. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Hermione, you're so shy! What do you think they're going to do? Eat you? Roast you over a fire like a crowd of barbarians? They _are _Gryffindors!" He said, making Ron snicker. 

Hermione simply stood there, and Ron sighed.

"OY! You boys over there! Let Hermione get through to the portrait, will you?" He yelled. Hermione looked devastated and shook her head frantically, looking over at the playful boys who were now laughing and mock bowing to her. 

Ron groaned, grabbed Harry by the arm, and walked Hermione through the crowd and down to the Great Hall. She smiled thankfully when the boys sat down on either side of her.

"Hermione, you are going to have get over that shyness!" Harry exclaimed. Hermione smiled slightly and ate her food, staring at her plate like she always did. Harry rolled his eyes and decided to let it drop. 

The post owls flew through only minutes later and everyone but Hermione looked up. Therefore, Hermione was more surprised than any one when two letters dropped into her lap, courtesy of an unrecognizable barn owl. She opened a bright red one, since it attracted her attention with it's vibrant color. 

__

Dear Hermione,

How is Hogwarts? Have you been enjoying yourself with Harry and Ron? I hope so. Your Father and I are going on an anniversary trip to Majorca, I'm very excited. It seems very exotic for a pair of dentists, doesn't it? Don will have the house to himself, I'm sure he'll enjoy that!

I wish I could write a longer letter, but I have a patient coming in to get their wisdom teeth removed and we're low on novocaine… best get to the suppliers soon… 

Love,

Mum

P.S. Dad says to have an extra apple day, new research shows that it really does help your teeth better than we had previously thought!

Hermione smiled slightly. Her parent's letters were always short, but they cheered her to no end. She picked up her next letter, a white one with a little red rose on the back flap. 

"Ooh, Hermione's got a love letter!" Ron teased, smiling. Hermione blushed and shook her head.

"It isn't, it isn't!" Was all she managed to mumble. She stuffed the letter under her leg and went back to eating. She'd open it later.

In Potions, when she had finished taking down her notes and was waiting for the others to do the same, she discreetly pulled out the letter and opened it eagerly. She hoped it was from her parents again, maybe an after note; or from her penpal in Switzerland, Stina Olskie. But as she pulled out the letter and saw the black-ink heading at the top, her blood ran cold. It was from _him_… 

Malfoy sat idly, having finished his notes, and looked around the room with bored disinterest. He felt too lazy this soon after his luxurious summer to stir up his usual mischief among the Gryffindors, or even to use Snape's favoritism to his advantage. Instead he sat, watching the Slytherins and Gryffindors interact with mild amusement. They were so hostile to each other, all over a bloody house! 'Ooh, you're wearing green, you must be evil and plotting to kill me!' Or, 'Ooh, you're wearing scarlet, you must be a goody-two-shoes with a rod stuck up your arse!' He'd never really fallen prey to the illusion that people of separate houses were so very different, but all the same, it was a good an excuse as any to make his contempt of others known. If only there was such an easy outlet for his dislike of the Slytherins, he mused. He really hated everybody. They were all the same to him, blurry faces not worthy of his time, only his scorn. Sniveling, small-minded, prejudiced children, so naïve, so gullible, without even knowing it! 

His eyes fell on Hermione, and he felt slightly foolish, looking upon her features, the epitome of painful experience. She had seen some of the big bad world… not much, but a little. Maybe she was the exception to his assessment. As he watched her, wondering what particular little bit of the big bad world she had seen, she discreetly pulled an envelope out of her robe pocket, watching to make sure nobody saw her. She pulled the letter out slowly, and only the top was in view when her fingers froze, and her face flashed in horror. His interest was peaked. All she could see was the letter heading, and she was cringing in fear? Maybe it said, 'Voldemort and Company' or something. Malfoy chuckled softly to himself as she slowly slid the letter out and read it, watching the play of emotions that flew over her expressive face. What could she be reading? He felt possessed by a sudden urge to find out. What made the bold Gryffindor so afraid? 

Hermione put the letter away with shaking hands, fumbling and cutting her finger on the sharp edge of the crisp paper. She sucked at it as she stared at her Potions notes dully, not noticing her name being called until someone rapped sharply on her desk.

"Ms. Granger? Kindly answer the question." Snape said silkily, his drawled syllables whipping through Hermione's ears like chilly winds. Hermione paled as she looked up at the malicious expression on Snape's face.

"Uh-uh… I… Professor…" She stuttered. 

"It would cause the potion to ferment, and become highly poisonous to humans." Said a cool voice from across the room.

Everyone, even Hermione, swiveled to look at the speaker. Snape glared at him for ruining his fun, as did Harry and Ron. For the speaker was none other than Draco Malfoy. The other students turned back to their notes, since it was Malfoy, and he was unpredictable. Who knew what he was up to? Only Hermione and he stayed facing each other, gazes locked over the heads of their peers. Draco raised a brow questioningly and Hermione looked down, unable to look into his penetrating grey eyes… she felt like they would strip off all her barriers, strip away the façade, and leave only the raw, wounded little girl inside standing naked for the world to mock. She turned back to her notes, mumbling something to herself briefly before copying down in her neat, precise hand writing what Snape's wand wrote on the board. She took solace in the way the black filled up the blank, white, pristine pages, slowly yet quickly at the same time, surely. All of her concentration went into the work and the class was over the next time she dared look away from her little notebook. Ron tugged on her arm. 

"C'mon, Hermione, we'll be late for lunch!" He said eagerly, anticipating a large meal of good food. After all, Snape made one hungry (or nauseated, but in this case, hungry). 

Hermione nodded, smiling slightly in reassurance, and followed the boys out the door. They were only a few steps away when she realized she'd forgotten her quill. 

"Guys! I left my quill in the classroom!" She exclaimed, turning halfway to look at the offending classroom, then turning back to Harry and Ron. They looked hungry.

"Hermioneeeeeeee! I really, _really_ need to eat!" Ron whined, slumping his shoulders and sticking out his lower lip. 

"Yeah, me too." Harry agreed, also pouting. Hermione looked back at the Potions door, back at them, back at the potions door.

"But… well… Ok. Don't trip over your bottom lips!" She said, half playfully, half grumpily. Harry and Ron smiled and walked off. Hermione looked at the Potions door again. _It's not like there's anyone in there, Hermione! Even Snape is gone to lunch! _She chided herself, walking determinedly toward the open door, her eyes darting in and out of the shadows. She poked her head into the classroom, scanning it before she stepped in, still looking around. Where was her quill? Hadn't she left it on that desk over there…? She took a step backward as she saw Draco Malfoy, sitting in his usual place, smirking at her calmly. How had she missed him?

She would have run out right then, but he held out his pale hand and in it she could see her quill, resting there, inviting her to come get it. She simply stared at it for a silent moment, then looked up at Malfoy. Something unknown glinted in his icy eyes and she shivered a little. What did he want with her? She took a step forward and saw his smirk widen. _Cat and Mouse, Cat and Mouse… _Was all that kept running through her head as she stood an arm-lengths away from him and slowly reached out, never looking up at his face, concentrating on the quill as she took it into her fingers and attempted to withdraw her hand, but the cat wrapped his hand around hers quicker than she could blink, and then the mouse was trapped. 

Hermione's eyes widened as she tried in vain to pull her hand away from his, still staring at her small peach hand held securely in his larger, pale one. She looked up at him, watched as his smirk widened into a grin, his white teeth glinting in all their charmed perfection. Like they were taunting her… 

"Let go…" She said, her voice that was supposed to be commanding coming out in a small, broken whisper of terror. Every muscle in her body was tense, ready to bolt as soon as he let go.

"What was in that letter?" He asked, unable to wipe the grin of triumph off his face though his tone was serious. He had caught the mouse.

"It was nothing." It sounded like a lie even to her. His grin didn't look triumphant any more, it looked carnivorous. 

"Who sent it to you?" He asked, smelling his eventual victory. He knew she would answer, even if reluctantly.

"No one important." Hermione's voice shook slightly and she forced herself to take deep breaths.

"Who?" He accentuated his question by drawing her closer to him, watching her wild eyes as they flinched and she struggled again. His grip was firm.

"My… U-uncle D-Don." Hermione stuttered, unable to fathom trying to lie to this man who held her captive with his hand and his eyes. He would know, he would see. Couldn't he see all?

"Are you afraid of your Uncle Don?" Malfoy asked softly, as she tore her eyes away from his and looked down at the floor. She slowly regained some of her sense.

"No." She whispered, still looking at the floor.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked, smiling again, he knew she was lying, but also that he wouldn't get much more out of her… today. Her eyes collided with his once more, the fear there unmistakable to anyone.

"No…yes." She replied, becoming once more captivated with his eyes that seemed so powerful to her, in all her vulnerability. He smiled slightly, almost wanly, and his hand released hers almost as quickly as before, maybe even quicker. Hermione's reaction came a little late, she stood simply staring at him for a few minutes before she realized he had let go. Her hand closed around the quill and she looked down at it in shock, before looking up at him again, totally bewildered. Who knew the rules to this game? She took a step backwards and stumbled over her robes, before turning, with only once last glance at _him._ Her awe and confusion transformed into fear and she ran out of the room, dropping her quill and not caring. His laughter followed her, mocking her as it rang over and over in her head, painfully clear.

He heard her running through the halls, running away from _him_. All he had done was hold her hand for a moment and ask her about a letter. He couldn't help it, he laughed. He laughed long as he bent and picked up the fallen quill, twirling it in his fingers like he wanted to twirl his little Mudblood. A new plaything.

Playing cat and mouse with little Hermione Granger might prove to be more interesting than he had already thought…

TBC

______________________________________________________________________________


	3. Encounter: Vulnerable

Terrifié 

Chapter Three [Encounter: Vulnerable]

****

Last Time:

He heard her running through the halls, running away from _him_. All he had done was hold her hand for a moment and ask her about a letter. He couldn't help it, he laughed. He laughed long as he bent and picked up the fallen quill, twirling it in his fingers like he wanted to twirl his little Mudblood. A new plaything.

Playing cat and mouse with little Hermione Granger might prove to be more interesting than he had already thought…

TBC

______________________________________________________________________________

Hermione ran blindly, she just had to get away from _him_, that powerful, invincible God. Another Don. Trembling with fright, she sank to the floor in a crumpled heap in an empty corridor. She lay there for what seemed like ages, then slowly began crawling in the direction of Gryffindor tower. 

After a while of this, she dragged herself to her shaky legs and managed to stumble back to her dormitory, which was empty since everyone else was still at lunch. She collapsed onto her bed for a moment, before pulling herself up and heading to the hospital wing. She couldn't go to classes today. 

She lay in the bed in the hospital, preparing herself for the barrage of questions as she heard the bell ring. Classes were out for the day. Harry and Ron would be here soon. 

"Hermione!" Ron called, running over to her bed with Harry at his side. 

"What happened? Are you ok?" Harry asked, touching her forehead in worry. Hermione smiled at the two. 

"I'm fine guys, I just felt a bit… out of it. Not up to classes." The boys sighed with relief as one, and sat down on either edge of her narrow bed.

"We were worried but McGonagall wouldn't let us go find you!"

"That's too bad."

"She's such an old bag!"

"RON! Don't say such things!"

"Why not? it's the truth!"

"We-ell…"

"You know I'm right, I'm always right…"

"Pah! Hogswaddle!" 

"Don't you hogswaddle me, Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived…"

Hermione relaxed back into her bed, content to be comforted by her friends bickering. 

Safe.

______________________________________________________________________________

A week passed simply, with no more troubles and no more difficulties. Hermione was slowly growing into her confidence, as she did every year. Away from Don, she began to regain her boldness, her wit, her intelligence, although it took time. Of course, at Christmas, the whole cycle would begin again. 

It was a sunny class of Care of Magical Creatures and Hermione was working with Harry. She skipped cheerfully over to Ron, who was trying to control some odd looking, slimy creature with electric prongs. She noticed Neville, who was looking at the ground, and took a deep breath. 

"Hi Nev! How are you?" She asked, trying her best to sound like Lavender and Parvati, confident and friendly. Harry and Ron had told her that she had hurt Neville's feelings, and she was determined to make up for that. She saw Ron smile approvingly.

"Uh- I-I'm fine, H-Hermione," Neville stuttered, turning red.

"That's great! Still have your Rememberall?"

"Yeah. Um, I forgot it at Granny's, though."

"Oh." Hermione giggled slightly. 

"Yeah." Neville said, smiling self-consciously. 

Across the field, Malfoy sat on the paddock fence, arms folded across his chest (since he had perfect balance) and smirk firmly in place. Hermione was getting confident again. Like the Hermione who slapped him. But what happened at home that she was so frightened when she came back? And what was she frightened of? And what had been in that letter? He would have to find out. 

______________________________________________________________________________

__

Later that day.

Hermione was watching Ron and Harry play a game of chess while she did her homework by the firelight in the Gryffindor common room. She giggled slightly as Ron won yet again and they started a new game. Someone tapped her on the shoulder and Hermione turned to see Neville, blushing as usual.

"Ehm, Hermione, could I talk to you… in private… for a second?" 

"Uh, but I have to… do my homework…" Hermione said. 

"Hermione, that homework isn't due for three weeks," Harry supplied. 

Hermione blushed and stood up. 

"I guess… I could t-talk to you Neville," She mumbled, and the look she gave Harry showed her anger. Harry smiled sweetly in reply. She followed Neville over to a deserted corner of the common room. 

__

Harry and Ron are just over there, Hermione, he can't hurt you… 

"Ehm, ah… Hermione, will you… ah, well, you see, um, go out with me?" Neville asked, looking at the floor and turning red. 

Hermione's heart was pounding and she was feeling dazed. 

When Neville looked up and put a hand on her shoulder, Hermione had to use every last inch of her self-control not to flinch away. 

"Please?" Neville added hopefully, smiling. 

Hermione's last drop of logic wasted away into nothing. His smile morphed into Don's smile. 

__

If I say no, he'll hurt me… ohgodohgodohgodohgod… 

"O-ok…" She stuttered, paling as he leant in and pecked her on the cheek before walking off to the boy's dormitories. Hermione rubbed a her cheek frantically, trying to get the mark off her, sure that there would be a bruise… 

She ran upstairs and to the girl's dormitories as fast as possible, ignoring Harry and Ron's calls. She went into the bathroom, flicking on the light. Nothing. There was nothing there, no mark. She turned off the lights and made her way over to her bed, curling up with her clothes still on. _It's Neville, not Don, it's Neville, not Don…_

______________________________________________________________________________

Malfoy looked up from his breakfast and scanned the hall lazily, looking for his Mouse. She still wasn't here, and breakfast was half over. Wait… the door came open slowly and she crept in, not attracting any attention. 

She sat down between the Wonder boys, across from Longbottom, who smiled at her. Hermione flinched as she stared at her food and slowly working on the heap of pancakes that Weasley had piled on her plate. She was only on the second one when she turned slightly green and pushed the plate away. 

Malfoy laughed, ignoring the stares from his housemates. Silly mouse. Can't you even eat a pancake, or are you afraid of them too? 

He watched as she looked around the hall, her eyes falling on him, then going back to her plate. She studied it for the rest of breakfast, when Weasley and Potter pulled her up, making jokes that she smiled weakly at. 

He sat up straighter as Longbottom walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek and a hug. He watched her face as it appeared over the boy's shoulder. Scared, guilty. Didn't anybody notice? 

Malfoy scowled and got up, walking over to the four. 

"Hello, Potty, Weasel." He drawled, bored behind his mask of contempt. The usual act. 

"Go away, Malfoy." Longbottom said, putting an arm possessively around Hermione. She squirmed anxiously. Malfoy caught her eyes and smirked.

"Can't you see your own _girlfriend _is afraid of you, Longbottom?" He asked, turning the word 'girlfriend' into derision. 

Longbottom looked confused at Hermione, who was glaring at Malfoy. Her lip quivered slightly as she finally managed to get the boy's arm from around her.

"That's not true." Ron said calmly, smiling reassuringly at Neville. "Right Hermione?" 

Hermione didn't answer. There was a long silence.

"Right, Hermione?" Malfoy said, still holding Mouse's eyes. She swallowed.

"R-right." She whispered furiously, looking down as Malfoy smiled triumphantly. 

__

Poor little Mouse. Always trapped. He stalked off towards his next class, cocky as always, leaving three Gryffindors glaring at him with the purest of hatred, and another with only confusion and fear. 

______________________________________________________________________________

Hermione explained, for the fifth time, _why _the potion was so potent. Ginny simply stared at her blankly. They sat in a secluded corner of the Hogwarts library, at a table stacked high with books. 

"Hermione, I just don't get it! And I need to go to the bathroom!" Ginny cried, frustrated. 

"But Ginny! You just went a few…"

"What are you suggesting?"

"Nothing. God, just go. But get back here fast." Hermione gave up. Ginny was hopeless. Ginny disappeared behind the bookshelves and Hermione stood, ready to go talk to Madam Pince. It was hard to admit even to herself, but she was a little scared, even though it was just the library. Her haven. Why should she be scared in her haven? 

"Hello, Mouse." A cold voice that she was beginning to get used to whispered into her ear. She jumped forward, falling off her chair and scrambling up to face him. 

"Malfoy…" She whispered, partly in derision, partly in awe. He smirked. 

"That's my name, don't wear it out." He said, sitting down in her vacated seat and rooting through her bag.

"What are you doing?" She hissed, looking around nervously.

"Getting that letter from Uncle Donny-boy." He said, glancing up and smiling devilishly at her, wanting to see her expression. 

She was torn between the fear and the need to keep him from the letter. She took a step nearer to him, putting a hand on the table, a hand that was shaking a little.

"Don't… please," She added as an afterthought. 

"It's just a letter. You don't have anything to hide, do you?" 

She shook her head and he continued through her bag until he found the letter. He pulled it out with a flourish and she took another step towards him. Her hand reached out hesitantly and closed around the letter, but he simply slid it from her loose fingers and stood up. He took the letter out and began unfolding it. She was taking baby steps toward him, as though she was meeting resistance. 

"No, please give it back!" She said, her voice a little stronger. He spared her a sharp glance before holding the letter slightly above his head, anticipating her trying to snatch it. 

"Dear Mione," He read aloud, quite enjoying himself at this point. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to get at the letter, but it was no use. He was taller than she anyway, but he had his arm almost fully outstretched upwards now. "How are you? I miss you, as I'm sure you miss me." 

He glanced down at Hermione, who was looking very pale and half-heartedly grabbing at the letter, her arm not even straightening. 

"Our nights together were nice, as were our days. I enjoy you so much. Must go now, Cindy is on the phone. Love, Don." 

Draco frowned, it seemed like a perfectly normal, uncle-like letter to him, except there was an undercurrent of perviness. Well, probably not perviness, he reasoned, why would Uncle Don have a reason to be pervy? Just an underlying current of… creepiness? Ill-intent?

He handed the letter to Hermione, who looked stricken. 

"That was positively boring, Granger. Don't see why you got all worked up about it. Are you going out with Longbottom, then?" He asked nonchalantly, sitting down in the chair again.

"Y-yes," Hermione said, blushing and looking at the floor.

"I wish you wouldn't stutter so much. It's annoying," He said, for no other reason than to be mean and condescending. 

"Ok." 

Draco stood again, looking down at her, suddenly interested again. She stared up at him, seeming particularly naïve, gullible… particularly vulnerable. And he wanted to…

He bent his head a little and brushed his lips against hers, almost gently, chastely… _almost_. It surprised him that she didn't pull away, didn't fight. Her eyes were wide open and staring into his, and he could sense her swaying slightly. Experimentally he touched her lips slightly with his tongue, and was surprised to feel her mouth open obediently, submissively, with no sign of confusion as to what he wanted. 

He pulled away, and stared at her briefly, before walking off. He didn't bother with a smirk or a good-bye. He didn't look back at her as he walked away.

He was too confused.

TBC

______________________________________________________________________________


	4. Interest

Terrifié  
  
Chapter Three [Interest]  
  
Last Time:  
  
He bent his head a little and brushed his lips against hers, almost gently, chastely. almost. It surprised him that she didn't pull away, didn't fight. Her eyes were wide open and staring into his, and he could sense her swaying slightly. Experimentally he touched her lips slightly with his tongue, and was surprised to feel her mouth open obediently, submissively, with no sign of confusion as to what he wanted.  
  
He pulled away, and stared at her briefly, before walking off. He didn't bother with a smirk or a good-bye. He didn't look back at her as he walked away.  
  
He was too confused. _______________________________________________________________________  
  
Hermione stiffly went back to her room and fell into her bed with her clothing still on. What was happening? How was she letting herself be led? Led into dating Neville, into kissing Draco Malfoy.  
  
All she knew was that fear was engulfing her slowly. Realization crept slowly into her and fear was right behind it. She had just let Draco Malfoy kiss her. She felt helpless and out of control, in shock. How was she supposed to stop him? There was no way.  
  
The fear paralyzed her, made it hard for her to breath, so hard that a simple inhalation took effort, and one exhalation pained her. She lay in her bed unmoving, white as a ghost, and remained this way until she finally fell asleep.  
  
She awoke the next morning slowly, and crawled out of her bed drowsily. Lavi and Pavi were still asleep, and she thanked God. She crept into the bathroom, showered, brushed her teeth and hair, washed her face and applied concealer and some lip balm, then dressed in her school robes.  
  
Her mind was mercifully silent. She didn't think at all, simply functioned. Her body hurt from exhaustion.  
  
Breakfast was uneventful, she sat between Harry and Ron, and Draco did not make an appearance. Neville fawned on her constantly, making idiotic jokes and smiling, putting his pudgy face close to hers and whispering odd and nervous nothings in her ear. She did not register most of this. She was slowly coming into herself though; coming out of her state of shock, her mind resuming its usual thought. She had to get rid of Neville, she realized halfway through Transfiguration class. She had to stay clear of Malfoy. She had to figure out why she was so bad, and find a way to stop herself. What was wrong with her, why was she so different from other girls? They weren't bad like her, they didn't make men do this.  
  
Harry waved a hand in front of her face and Hermione blinked and slowly looked up at him. It seemed as though the rest of the world was behind a curtain, a veil, living as usual, and she was trapped in slow motion.  
  
"Time for potions Hermione. Aren't you eager to get down to the dungeons? Snape will be there!" Ron 'enticed' her. They were so oblivious weren't they? Didn't they know her evil ways?  
  
Hermione walked with them to potions, where she insisted for the first time in either of their remembrances on sitting in the back. She knew Draco was always at the front of the class, busy brown-nosing. ________________________________________________________________________  
  
Snape droned on about various potions, and astonishingly Hermione wasn't listening. Schoolwork was her refuge, a place where nothing of her personal self mattered, it was such a comfort to surround herself with it, to strive for excellence in the one world where she felt she could achieve it.  
  
Her head snapped up as she heard Snape call her name.  
  
"Granger and Malfoy."  
  
Draco, who himself had been lost in a reverie, looked up dreamily.  
  
"Granger and Malfoy!" Snape called again, looking over the top of his scroll at them. "Please find a place to sit together and begin work on your assignment!" Hermione blinked and glanced at Draco, who had stood up and was waiting for her at an empty table he had found. He gestured her over impatiently. She walked towards him.  
  
"What are we supposed to be doing?" She asked, easing herself onto a stool. The air of tension that hung between them held its usual dislike, scorn and rivalry, but now new elements had been added to the cocktail. fear, uncertainty and. attraction.  
  
"Weren't you listening, know-it-all Granger?" Draco sneered.  
  
"No, I wasn't." Hermione answered unashamedly. She didn't have the strength for this.  
  
"Neither was I, but luckily for us, Pansy took notes for me." Draco slapped them onto the table in front of her, making her jump. He noted this. "What's up with you, Mudblood? You're awfully out of it, and jumpy."  
  
"N-nothing." Hermione quickly said, shaking her head to clear it and looking down at the notes. "Oh." she looked at the notes in dismay. "We have to work together for the rest of the school year, Malfoy." she announced.  
  
"What? Is Snape crazy? I should."  
  
"Should what, have your father reassign partners?" Hermione made a bold comment and then mentally reprimanded herself. Do not attract attention to yourself! What if he gets angry? Then what will you do?  
  
Draco took a step closer to her. "Listen here, you filthy Muggleborn, don't insult the integrity of my family," he muttered, glaring at her. He was surprised to feel the electricity in the air between them and stepped back quickly, knocking over a stool and some ingredients and causing a commotion.  
  
The ruckus was a welcomed distraction and they both concentrated on picking up the mess. By the time they were finished, Snape was announcing the end of class.  
  
"I hope you all have made a good start on the project." He said, looking pointedly at Draco and Hermione.  
  
The day wasted away slowly, classes and meals and conversations and jokes passing in a blur of nonchalance. The uneasiness resting in her stomach made it hard for Hermione to eat, and a certain anxiety rested on her chest like a weight. She dreaded supper, but, being the best friend of two teenage boys, there was no way to delay it. let alone avoid it entirely. The trio made their way into the hall and the eyes of the students rested upon them as usual. Despite years of attendance, Harry Potter was yet the shining star of Hogwarts. After all, did he not prove himself year and year? And Ron and Hermione had attained something of a celebrity status as well, not just by being forever with Harry, but through their own heroic deeds and charismatic and charming personalities. Hermione was as outgoing as any after a few months away from Don. Well, usually she was. This year, there seemed to be more challenges.  
  
Hermione bowed her head, letting Harry and Ron receive the attention. But still, she felt eyes on her. She looked up. And her eyes met gray ones. Draco. She shivered as though cold. and she was. chilled by the ice in his gaze. But beneath it glowed something else. Interest. A sudden, unholy, un- Draco-like, interest in something other than himself.  
  
Draco stared at her. Nothing intrigued him; everything had always seemed very simple and straightforward. Everything except Hermione Granger. He wanted to figure her out. he was compelled to figure her out, he must figure her out. Confusion was not a feeling he was used to, and he didn't like it very much. He would get to the bottom of this girl if it killed him, because otherwise she would not be dismissed from his mind.  
  
And so begun his pursuit of Hermione.  
  
TBC ________________________________________________________________________ 


	5. Revealed

Terrifié  
  
Chapter Five [Revealed]  
  
Last Time:  
  
Draco stared at her. He wanted to figure her out. he was compelled to figure her out, he must figure her out. Confusion was not a feeling he was used to, and he didn't like it very much. He would get to the bottom of this girl if it killed him, because otherwise she would not be dismissed from his mind.  
  
And so begun his pursuit of Hermione.  
  
TBC ______________________________________________________________________  
  
The day wasted away slowly, classes and meals and conversations and jokes passing in a blur of nonchalance. The uneasiness resting in her stomach made it hard for Hermione to eat, and a certain anxiety rested on her chest like a weight. She dreaded supper, but, being the best friend of two teenage boys, there was no way to delay it. let alone avoid it entirely. The trio made their way into the hall and the eyes of the students rested upon them as usual. Despite years of attendance, Harry Potter was yet the shining star of Hogwarts. After all, did he not prove himself year after year? And Ron and Hermione had attained something of a celebrity status as well, not just by being forever with Harry, but through their own heroic deeds and charismatic and charming personalities. Hermione was as outgoing as any after a few months away from Don. Well, usually she was. This year, there seemed to be more challenges.  
  
Hermione bowed her head, letting Harry and Ron receive the attention. But still, she felt eyes on her. She looked up. And her eyes met gray ones. Draco. She shivered as though cold, and she was. chilled by the ice in his gaze. But beneath it glowed something else. Interest. A sudden, unholy, un- Draco-like, interest in something other than himself. Nothing intrigued him, everything had always seemed very simple and straightforward. Everything except Hermione Granger.  
  
"Hermione." Footsteps sounded behind her in the stone corridor, bouncing off the walls in a cacophony of measured steps. She scurried onward, not looking back. Damn those moving stairways. she had no idea where she was. But she did know who was behind her. Draco. "Hermione." Called the voice again, demanding her to stop. She was fighting against herself, because such a big part of her wanted to stop. The word "obey" echoed over and over in her head. Just give in Hermione, maybe if you obey then he won't hurt you, just stop walking, just stop.  
  
Her footsteps faltered but she still kept going, pausing every minute or so.  
  
"Hermione, stop!" The voice finally sounded a little angry, the calm cool had left it. and that was the deciding factor for Hermione. She halted uncertainly but didn't turn around. The footsteps got closer to her and she tensed, waiting for a blow until she felt a hand grab her arm and spin her around, making her flinch. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, hoping to lessen the pain of any attack. "Granger, what are you, deaf?" Draco asked roughly, releasing her arm. "I called your name about twenty times!" He seemed almost sulky as he folded his arms over his chest and furrowed his brow, watching as she opened her eyes and looked up hesistantly. "What's wrong with you anyway? You're such a freak." He continued.  
  
"Sorry." Was all she managed to choke out. He rolled his eyes.  
  
"Listen, I just wanted to talk to you about our project, not murder you. I've talked to Snape, and he refuses to let us switch partners. So I guess we're stuck together. It's just a research project though, so we won't have to talk much, I hope. Umm, it's about Elsabeth Fedoso, a famous witch in the 90's who created a lot of powerful spells, but disappeared mysteriously when she was only 22. No one knows what happened to her, but Snape wants us to write a little mini-biography on her, and then theorize about what happened to her. He hopes that we may be able to figure out what happened, I don't know why he would think that, I mean, even the ministry hasn't been able to crack this case! But we're "his brightest students" so he gave us the hardest project. Bastard." Draco finished his spiel and glanced vengefully in the direction of the dungeons before looking at Hermione to gauge her reaction. She looked sort of dazed. He snapped a finger in front of her and she jumped.  
  
"What?" She asked, looking like she didn't have a clue about anything.  
  
"What are you, ADD?" Draco asked spitefully, sneering at her.  
  
"No, I just. well I heard what you said anyway. So what does it matter?" Hermione straightened her back but still did not meet his gaze.  
  
"Wow, finally said something that seems a bit like your old self. Getting back on the horse, Granger? What knocked you off?" Draco sneered, stepping closer, hoping for one of their old fights of biting wit.  
  
"Your breath?" Hermione suggested, raising an eyebrow, and finally looking up, though she broke their eye contact almost immediately afterward. she wasn't ready for this.  
  
"Oh, you know what my breath smells like? I wouldn't think you would since you're usually kissing my ass."  
  
"I couldn't kiss your ass if I wanted to. you've got too much stuff stuck up it."  
  
"At least I'm not stuck up Potter's ass."  
  
"Well, that'd be a rose garden after being up Snape's for your entire life!" Draco smiled, Hermione had finally met his eyes again, and hers were flashing with fire.  
  
"Better watch your tongue Granger, you never know what could happen to you in a dark corridor with Draco Malfoy." He warned.  
  
"Yeah, I might end up kicking your butt or something." Hermione raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms across her chest in a pose reminiscent of his. She was too cocky, she didn't see it coming. Because suddenly his arms were around her in a vise-like grip. She whimpered in fright and stuggled against him briefly before stilling. He locked his gaze with hers as he slid his hand down her leg, reached into her robe, feeling her shudder against him all the while, and snatched her wand. Then he loosened his hold on her and smiled tauntingly.  
  
"Ahh, the return of the mouse. frightened Hermione?" Her breaths were short as she looked up at him in utter terror.  
  
"P-please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me." She begged, a tear rolling down her quivering cheek.  
  
"You're defenseless, I have your wand, and no one can hear us in this abandoned corridor. No one is going to come looking for either of us, we're both supposed to be in bed." He said, enjoying having control over her. He let go of her and watched her sink to his feet. Her legs couldn't support her. He crouched next to her and lifted her small chin with a finger, smiling widely. "You're completely at my mercy."  
  
She shook her head. "No."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Please don't hurt me. I'll do anything." Draco hadn't been expecting to hear this, but it was music to his ears.  
  
"Anything?"  
  
"anything. just don't hurt me." Desperate, she flung herself into his arms and kissed him. This was the only way. Caught off guard Draco toppled to the floor with her on top of him. Her wand and his skidded across the floor. She ran a hand down the back of his tense neck and he gasped unwillingly. He was shocked into absolute passion. he wanted to rip her robes off right there. this was not like him, he was usually so controlled. Damn if he'd let her get the better of him. he pried her off him almost gently and stared up at her, breathing raggedly.  
  
"You can't do that to a Malfoy, Hermione." He stated calmly, although he was still reeling inside. He was completely mystified by this girl. Tears were streaming down her face. He rolled over so that he was on top of her and held her arms over her head, bending his head and softly kissing her lips. "Open your eyes." He demanded. Slowly she complied. "Why did you do that?" He asked.  
  
"Just don't hurt me. I. I did it so you wouldn't hurt me." She whispered.  
  
"How would I hurt you Hermione?" He asked softly.  
  
"You would. hit me and kick me and throw me." Draco was beginning to figure things out.  
  
"What else would I do?"  
  
"Make me. make me please you." She sobbed.  
  
"Please me how?" Goddamnit. what was she living through? He grit his teeth.  
  
"No. no. please don't." she cried, shaking her head.  
  
"Would I make you please me by raping you Hermione?" He asked, his voice strained. She nodded, letting out another anguished sob. "Is that what your Uncle Don does?" He asked.  
  
"I'm not supposed to tell. Please don't tell him. Please don't tell him. I'll do anything. please don't let him come here." She whimpered.  
  
That was why she had kissed him. to please him so he wouldn't beat her. Fuck! He wouldn't ever.  
  
He rolled off of her, sitting up and watching her curl into a little ball. He needed to think. He rubbed his forehead, swearing. This fucking bastard, Don, has been raping and beating her. That's why she's so afraid of men. Goddamn!  
  
He pulled Hermione up into a sitting position next to him and wrapped his arms around her. "How long has Don been doing this Hermione?"  
  
"S-since he came to live with us." The man lives with her! It just gets worse!  
  
"And when did he move in with you?"  
  
"8 years ago." She shivered and lay her head on his shoulder. She was too exhausted and frightened of Don to be frightened of Draco as well right now. His arms tightened around her.  
  
"You need to get back to your dorm." He said, wanting to be alone, to think over everything that this impassioned, crazed encounter had revealed.  
  
He left her at the Gryffindor entrance with her wand and a spell that would put her to sleep in 10 minutes.  
  
And then he returned to the dungeons for a night plagued with thoughts of his Hermione. for he had decided that she would be his.  
  
TBC 


	6. The Rumour Mill

Terrifié  
  
Chapter Six [The Rumour Mill]  
  
Last Time:  
  
He left her at the Gryffindor entrance with her wand and a spell that would put her to sleep in 10 minutes.  
  
And then he returned to the dungeons for a night plagued with thoughts of his Hermione. For he had decided that she would be his.  
  
TBC ______________________________________________________________________  
  
Draco lay in his bed, grappling with his inexplicable urge to protect and comfort Hermione, which was oddly countered by his more natural urge to play mind games with her. Oh well, it was best he get up and off to class before McGonagall came looking for him. he didn't want his black satin haven invaded by that prim old hag.  
  
He got up and dressed quickly, brushed his hair and charmed his teeth clean, and ran to class. His classmates and McGonagall looked up as the stone door banged open, breaking the silence of note-taking.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, you are ten minutes late and disrupting my class. Also your robe is on backwards. Please sit down without any further antics, 20 points from Slytherin."  
  
The Slytherins, despite their loss, snickered at his backwards robes while he glared at them and quickly spun the robes the right way, before sitting down and beginning to take down the notes McGonagall was jotting onto the board quickly. The class passed quickly and by the end Draco's stomach was growling loudly. He swore and wished he hadn't missed his breakfast, as he made his way through the thick crowds towards herbology. On top of his hunger was his absolute dread for this class. entirely boring. He spotted Hermione in a stream of students coming towards him, but more importantly, he spotted a muffin in her hand, which she was taking a bite out of as he looked on jealously. It looked like a banana muffin. and Draco had a possessing love for banana muffins, especially Narcissa's, but any banana muffin would do in a squeeze. He purposefully shoved closer to Hermione and just as she passed unsuspectingly, swiped the muffin. She looked up in confusion and met his eyes, flinching in a mix of fear and embarrassment as the events of the previous night came flooding back to her.  
  
"Thanks, babe." He grinned widely and bent down to peck her on the lips quickly before sweeping off towards herbology, much to her dismay, and the observers who had been hoping for a classic Malfoy-Granger duel's shock and intrigue.  
  
By the end of the day the whole school knew about Hermione Granger the Goody Gryffindor and Draco Malfoy the Prince of Slytherin. and their mad passionate love affair.  
  
Neville sat in a corner of the library with Trevor, looking rather forlorn. He had heard all the gory rumours about Draco and Hermione's tragic and forbidden love and, being the self-deprecating person he was, believed them. He scolded himself quietly, he should have known, Draco so much more handsome than he, Hermione too smart and pretty. until Ron appeared next to him.  
  
"Hallo, Neville, why so glum?" Ron plopped cheerily down next to him.  
  
"What are you doing in the library Ron? I don't think I've ever seen you here before." Neville half-heartedly stalled. Ron flushed the color of the lipstick mark on his jawline and said almost seriously,  
  
"Oh, you know, studying. But really Neville, what's eating you? You don't look too hot." He persisted, noting his friend's continued malaise.  
  
"Well, it's just, you know, what with Hermione and all."  
  
"What about Hermione?" Ron was surprised; he'd thought that Hermione and Neville were getting along well.  
  
"Well you know, her and Malfoy. they're in love. it's just sort of discouraging you see, I really liked her.", Neville elaborated, but was cut off by Ron's roar of laughter.  
  
"Oh Neville, honestly, you kill me, oh.man we are gonna have to tell that one to Harry, he will simply grow abs from the laughing, ahahahahaha God, yes that's great. Hermione and Malfoy, ahahahaha" Ron wiped a tear from his eye and whomped Neville on the back. "But we're gonna be late for potions and that would not be good, so best be off, eh?" Ron helped a confused Neville up and they headed towards the dungeons.  
  
"So then Neville said, 'her and Malfoy. they're in love.' and I just about died, oh God Harry could you imagine?" Harry and Ron sat in potions waiting for class to begin, for once Snape was late. They laughed uproariously until he appeared, with a very sour look on his face, and told them to "get to work, you unworthy slobs, and 10 points off Gryffindor".  
  
Hermione and Draco were already working away quietly in their corner, ignoring the constant giggling and whispering directed at them by both the Slytherins and the Gryffindors. Hermione was entirely bewildered as to what had set them off so, she hadn't thought the kiss would have spread around so quickly. maybe they knew about her evil ways. but how could anyone giggle at that? Draco, on the other hand, was quite pleased that his little ruse was working so well. He had done everything in his power to perpetuate the rumour, when questioned by eager gossips he would reply innocently, "Hermione doesn't want me to tell anyone about us, but if you don't tell anyone else, I guess it should be ok!" or "Just between us, she's a phenomenal snogger!", acting the part of a smitten and foolhardy school boy. As the class looked on greedily, he attempted to play a game of footsie with her, cause her to kick him in the shin, and whispered something in her ear, causing her to giggle (little did they know that he whispered "giggle or I'll kiss you, Granger", which was quite enough motivation for Hermione).  
  
Hermione was quickly becoming confused by this chain of odd and mysterious events. first Malfoy starts hunting her down at every corner, then he finds out about Don, then he pretends he knows nothing about that and pretends that they are in puppy love, setting off a series of scandal reports throughout the school. What, why, where, when, who? But at least in the public eye he couldn't do anything to her, all she had to do was avoid him after classes. not that she'd been doing that too well lately. What would he do if he caught her alone? Could she summon up the courage to duel with him? In her morning-after clarity, she regretted kissing him, and telling him about Don, more than anything else she'd ever done. engulfed in a tidal wave of fear that blinded her completely, she had broken into hysteria. She was much too vulnerable to handle being around him, or anyone for that matter. And even more disturbing, she was catching waves of lust, curiosity and ownership from him as he sat smirking next to her, "reading" a book for their project.  
  
Elsabeth Fedoso was proving to be quite a challenge, she was mysterious and although she was mentioned in many books it seemed that no one had known very much about her, especially her private life. Eventually Hermione became immersed in the chapter she was reading, a list of the spells Elsabeth had created with short descriptions of each.  
  
The Dream Potion: A potion which gives the caster power to monitor and even control a certain person's dreams, when combined with a series of different spells. See pg. 28  
  
Protectoris Charm: A defense charm which surrounds the user in a sort of invisible veil through which nothing can pass for 12 hours. Can be repeated consecutively as long as one wishes, but must be used carefully as no food or water can pass through veil either, best to pack a lunch in cloak.  
  
The list of charms, potions and spells went on endlessly and Hermione was lost in it until she heard Snape dismiss the class. But she wanted to finish this chapter, she's only got a few spells left.  
  
When she looked up, the class is empty. Why hadn't Ron and Harry waited for her?! Hermione swallowed the feeling of fear which rose in her when she realized she was alone in the dank, dark dungeons, and thanked Merlin that there is no one else left in the classroom, in particular, not Malfoy. She gathered her books and ink and quill, her notes, and jumbled them into her bag messily, wanting to get out of the class as quickly as possible and to supper. She hated the dungeons, always had. the feeling of being trapped down here was unbearable, and she could just imagine what it must have been used for in the olden days. she could close her eyes and envision a bloody and emaciated man in that rusting set of chains, or a woman lying helplessly in that dusty, lightless corner. she walked out of the classroom shivering and the let out a small scream as she saw Malfoy leaning on the wall across from her. He smiled.  
  
"Hey, Granger," he said simply (and confusingly), watching her. As he looked at her he felt an unmistakable twinge of lust and swore internally. This really isn't the time Draco, you don't want to scare her. He was not used to mastering these impulses, and said rather brusquely, losing his smile, "What took you so long?"  
  
"Why are you following me around like this, and letting people think we're in love? What are you after Malfoy? Why can't you just leave me alone?" Her eyes have turned cold, inside she is numb with fear.  
  
"Hermione, you're the first person other than myself I've been interested in for years, and I want to explore that idea." He smiles again, in what he hopes is a friendly manner, but she shrinks back toward the wall, her façade of coolness falling away as she turns red.  
  
The dark figure that had entered her room moved towards her, and with a sigh of relief she realizes it is only Uncle Don. "Uncle Don, what are you doing here?" The 8-year-old Hermione asks, smiling up at him. "It's so late, I was asleep." She giggles at the idea of being awake so late. Uncle Don sits on the bed next to her and slowly his hand works under the covers.  
  
"I couldn't sleep. Hey, remember that game we used to play when you were little? Remember the 'Friend Game'?" Hermione remembers.  
  
"Can we play another game, Uncle Don?" She asks hesitantly.  
  
"But I like this one so much!" he says playfully, and she feels his cold hand slide inside her pajama bottoms. His other hand is down his own, holding something big.  
  
"O-ok.Uncle Don." He takes her own hand and guides it toward the thing.  
  
"Here, Hermione, let's explore!"  
  
TBC 


	7. Breakdown and Breakup

Terrifié  
  
Chapter Seven [Breakdown and Break-up]  
  
Last Time:  
  
"Hermione, you're the first person other than myself I've been interested in for years, and I want to explore that idea." He smiles again, in what he hopes is a friendly manner, but she shrinks back toward the wall, her façade of coolness falling away as she turns red.  
  
*flashback*  
  
TBC ______________________________________________________________________  
  
Hermione brushed away the memory quickly, concentrating on where she was now, not where she had once been. Draco was looking at her almost concernedly. She caught his eyes and he raised his eyebrows questioningly.  
  
"I'm not an idea for you to explore Draco. My existence on this earth is not for the sole purpose of entertaining you until you discard me. There's a lot of things you don't know about me, and you will never know them." She turned to leave but he caught her arm gently and turned her to face him.  
  
"I know about Don."  
  
"Do you honestly think that that's all there is to me?" she asked with a tired smile. She brushed his hand off and walked down the dark corridor, leaving him alone.  
  
"I will know everything about you, Granger. Mark my words," he called after her, his voice echoing eerily. Hermione shivered but continued through the shadows._________________  
  
Draco slid his back down the stone wall of his chambers, falling into a sitting position gracefully. He had forsaken the comfort of his bed; he had some serious thinking to do. What he had said to Hermione was only half of the truth; she was the first person that had aroused his interest in a long time - that was true. But she was also the only person who had ever made him question his long-standing understanding of the world, other people, and worse of all. himself.  
  
Could it be true that she. and if she, other people as well. were not as one-dimensional as he had always perceived them to be? Was it possible that he was not the only intelligent life form on earth? Did others have problems, serious thoughts, emotions, humour, as well? Maybe he was just a stuck-up cocky ass. well, let's not go that far. But maybe he wasn't so damned smart after all.  
  
For how many years had he seen Hermione as simply a condescending Gryffindor know-it-all? It had not occurred to him that perhaps there was something under this surface judgement.  
  
Maybe everyone had personalities and lives lurking under the surface.  
  
Maybe he WAS a stuck-up cocky ass._____________________________________________  
  
Ron and Harry were beginning to worry. They had noted that something was different. there was no Hermione clinging to them 24/7. Where had she gone? Had she somehow detached herself from their collective hip? She was missing meals, coming late for classes, and then all these rumours. in short, it was very disturbing.  
  
The subject of their talk appeared through the portrait-hole just as they were contemplating going to look for her. They sprang up.  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
"Where have you been?"  
  
"We were so worried!"  
  
Hermione looked rather taken aback that they had remembered her existence at all, and feeling rather overwhelmed by their caring and by the events of the past few days all of a sudden, she burst into tears. Ron quickly guided her to the comfy Gryffindor couch and put his arms around her, and Harry followed suit.  
  
"What's wrong?!" He asked in bewilderment.  
  
"It's just that, I've just had a rough few days, and you guys are so nice and everything, and." Hermione gulped and went back to crying.  
  
"Crap, I have detention now. but if you want I'll skip it Hermione!" Harry offered, looking at his watch.  
  
"No it's ok, go!" she encouraged miserably, not looking up. He kissed her forehead and ran off, feeling rather guilty. Hermione burrowed her face into Ron's chest and sobbed. He rubbed her back comfortingly.  
  
"Aw, Hermione, it'll be ok. I'm sure it will be. You have us!" He said awkwardly, causing her to sob even more.  
  
"It. won't. ever. be. ok!!!" she gasped, "If only. you. knew!" She wailed and wrapped her arms so tightly around him that he feared he would break a rib.  
  
"Oh dear! Ron, what's wrong with Hermione?!" Ginny's worried voice came from behind them as she scrambled through the portrait hole. She hurried over to them.  
  
"I don't know." He offered helplessly. She shot him a look (one of Mrs. Weasley's, actually) and sat down next to Hermione.  
  
"'Mione, what's wrong?" She asked. Hermione flung herself into Ginny's arms and continued sobbing. "Ok, I'm taking you upstairs. Ron, make some chicken soup and levitate it up, will you? God, boys are so useless." She managed to get Hermione up the stairs into her room and tuck her into bed, climbing into bed and pulling the curtains. A good cuddle was what the girl needed, in Ginny's opinion.  
  
"Now darling, want to tell me what's up?" She asked gently, brushing the hair of Hermione's wet face worriedly.  
  
"I don't know Ginny! Everything! I don't like Neville, I never have, I just went out with him because he asked me and I didn't know what to say. and now all these rumours about me and Draco. And Harry and Ron love me so much, and you, and I don't deserve it! I just. I don't know what to do anymore!"  
  
"Well the whole thing about Neville is obvious; we will handle that in the morning. He'll get over it. I know a nice girl in Hufflepuff who thinks he's the bee's knees. As for Harry and Ron and I, of course we love you, and you do deserve it! It's us who don't deserve you Hermione!" Ginny said quite sincerely. "About Malfoy. well, are the rumours true?" She asked rather doubtfully.  
  
"I don't know Ginny! There's something going on between us, but I don't understand what it is. It definitely isn't a mad passionate love affair though." It felt so good to talk to someone that Hermione was feeling much calmer.  
  
"So then who cares about rumours! They'll pass in a week or two. No one has any business butting into your affairs. They have no proof of anything either, just let it run its course. We don't love you any less for it!" Ginny was still worried about any interaction with Malfoy at all, but at least it wasn't as bad as Stacey Foilwats had told her.  
  
Ron's soup arrived and Hermione drank it thankfully, feeling hungry after missing supper and all the exertion of crying. She blew her nose, Ginny gave her a massage and she fell asleep feeling much better. Ginny crept quietly out of her bed, closing the curtains behind her, and went downstairs.  
  
The boys were still up, sitting by the fire looking very concerned. Ginny wormed her way in between them.  
  
"She's fine. Just stressed. She doesn't even remotely like Neville, as everyone with half a brain already knows. Poor guy, she will have to break up with him soon. Better than lead him on." Ron and Harry looked rather guilty, it had seemed to them that Hermione was getting along great with Neville. "And," Ginny continued, "those rumours about her and Malfoy would cause anyone a nervous breakdown."  
  
"Err, they aren't true are they?" Harry asked nervously. It had recently occurred to Ron and he that perhaps this was the reason Hermione was so upset. Snogging Malfoy would traumatize anyone!  
  
Ginny was quiet for a moment, thinking about what Hermione had said.  
  
"They're definitely not having a mad passionate love affair," she said, before hopping up and going off to bed. It wasn't until after she'd left that the boys realized her answer hadn't been completely straightforward.  
  
Upstairs, Hermione awoke feeling a sudden weight on her chest, but dismissed it as grief and went back to sleep.____________________________________________________________  
  
Hermione awoke the next morning with a throbbing headache almost as violent as her crying had been, a stuffed up nose and noticeably red eyes. Breakfast was halfway over already. She leapt out of bed as quickly as her sore muscles would permit her- she felt like she'd run a marathon- and dressed, brushing her hair and teeth and then hurrying down to breakfast, where Harry and Ron had saved her a seat between them. They were very attentive, serving her all her favourite breakfast foods and offering to carry things for her on the way to their first class, transfiguration. Hermione sat next to Neville and in an act of unusual cowardice, passed him a note that read,  
  
Neville, you're really great, but  
  
I think we would be better off as  
  
friends, ok? I know a nice girl  
  
in Hufflepuff who really likes you  
  
though!  
  
Hermione xoxo  
  
Neville nodded at her and smiled, having expected this. He was sad of course, but still, they hadn't had much of a relationship anyway had they? And a girl liked him?! Small miracles!  
  
TBC________________________________________________________________________ 


	8. Property

Terrifié  
  
Chapter Eight [Property]  
  
Last Time:  
  
Neville, you're really great, but  
I think we would be better off as  
friends, ok? I know a nice girl  
in Hufflepuff who really likes you  
though!  
Hermione xoxo  
  
Neville nodded at her and smiled, having expected this. He was sad of course, but still, they hadn't had much of a relationship anyway had they? And a girl liked him?! Small miracles!  
  
TBC  
  
Draco being the newly Hermione-obsessed person that he was, noticed immediately her red eyes, and the shadow of a bruise on her cheek which she had not covered in her hurry that morning. The rest had luckily faded.  
  
He watched her weaving towards him through the crowd and felt a strong sense of a déjà vu, although she didn't have a muffin this time. He opened the door of a classroom which wasn't in use, and as she passed, pulled her inside with him, closing the door behind her. He leaned on it and waited patiently as she turned to face him, already knowing who it was. A look of pure fury was on her tired face.  
  
"What is your goddamn problem, Malfoy? You need help. I don't have time for this, I have to get to class. Move," she ordered, rather shocked into confidence and armed with the support she had received from her friends the night before.  
  
"My problem is your face. What's with the red eyes?" he asked smartly, glaring at her. He hated when people talked back to him.  
  
"None of your business," she said, gasping as her grabbed her rather roughly and pulled her closer to him, looking down at her intimidatingly and repeating his question. She scowled at him but said, "I was crying, if it's that important to you. Now can I go?" His fingers touched her almost gone bruise in featherlight concern.  
  
"What about this?" he demanded, the steel in his voice strangely accompanied by worry.  
  
"Don." She said, truly hating having to say the name. Saying it evoked so much in her, guilt, fear, revulsion, sadness. hearing or saying the name always felt like a physical blow. Draco looked confused.  
  
"Is he here?" he asked unsurely.  
  
"No you idiot. I didn't put concealer on this morning is all." She tried to brush him off as she had last night, but this time his grip on her upper arms only tightened. "Will you let go? I'm going to get detention."  
  
"That's true, you are. So why not skip the entire class?"  
  
"No, Draco. I want to go to class! What are you going to do, keep me here against my will?" She demanded, becoming impatient and pushing against his chest in an effort to make him let go of her.  
  
"Good idea!" He said brightly, snatching her wand once again and pocketing it, then performing a locking charm on the door. "You know, Granger, it's remarkably easy to disarm you!" he said smugly. Hermione, who thoughts had been running on a remarkably similar track, looked a mixture between admiration, anger and resignation.  
  
"Fuck you," She said half-heartedly, sitting on top of a desk. "What in the hell do you want, the quicker this is over the better." He smiled cheerily.  
  
"Oh, I want lots of things. Malfoy Manor, inexhaustible riches, a job as an Auror, my father dead, a puppy, knowledge of your every thought and feeling."  
  
"A puppy?"  
  
"Don't make an issue of it. You're at a disadvantage," he reminded her coldly. Hermione held her hands up in defeat sarcastically.  
  
"I didn't mean any harm, Master Draco!" she said.  
  
"Hmm, I rather like the ring of that. Maybe you should start calling me that all the time!" Draco suggested.  
  
"Yeah, and maybe I should start groveling at your feet, referring to myself in the third person, and wearing a pillowcase as clothing too!"  
  
"Aren't you full of wonderful ideas today?! If only I had a pillowcase handy!" He said, smirking wickedly.  
  
"Maybe a queen-sized sheet." Hermione amended. She realized she was bantering with him, and that she was quickly beginning to trust him. which was not good. When had been the last time she had trusted a male other than her father, Harry or Ron? A very long time ago. What was happening to her?  
  
Draco strolled towards her, smirk still intact, and stood before her challengingly.  
  
"So why were you crying?" he asked, putting his hands on either side of her on the desk and leaning in. He was pressuring her, and he knew it.  
  
"Like I said, none of your." she trailed off as he leaned threateningly closer. She raised an eyebrow and maintained eye contact although she was beginning to be afraid. "business," she said with renewed vigour.  
  
"You're my business Hermione."  
  
"What makes me your business?!" she demanded, confused.  
  
"Well, you are mine." He shrugged as if this was obvious.  
  
"WHAT?! You can't own a person, Draco! You can't own ME! For the love of Merlin!" Hermione was stunned. Yet vaguely amused. after all, it was a complete lie!  
  
"Actually Miss Granger, in the wizarding world there is a little known law left over from the olden days which permits pure blood wizards to purchase Mudbloods. If you'll look at your medallion." He gestured to a golden medallion hanging from her neck which had appeared there mysteriously without her noticing. She lifted it from beneath her robes and looked at the clear inscription there.  
  
Property of Draco Evan Malfoy  
  
Enraged, she lifted it over her head, only to find that it suddenly became too heavy to lift. She searched frantically for a clasp.  
  
"I am the only person with the ability to remove it, Miss Granger."  
  
"This cannot be legal! You bastard! I will take this to the authorities! Get this piece of trash off of me!" The playfulness that had been in the air vanished.  
  
"Actually, it's very nearly not legal. You see of course, under the revision of laws, the Ministry is in the process of making ownership of mudbloods illegal. However, mudbloods purchased before the law is abolished will remain the property of their owners." Hermione was finding it very hard to breathe.  
  
"When.?" Was all she was able to manage.  
  
"Oh, I phoned up the Mudblood Shop last night. It's understandable you've never seen it, it's in Knockturn Alley." He smiled.  
  
"This is a joke. This has to be a joke." She looked at him pleadingly, begging him to laugh and say, 'haha, got you good that time Granger!'. But he looked back at her with equal solemnity.  
  
"Here's your wand back, you can't hurt me, it's part of the arrangement," he said, handing her the wand. She raised her hand and brought it to his face with all her force, but right before it made contact it simply stopped, as though he was using a Protectoris charm. She could only bring it to his cheek when she decided to simply stroke it.  
  
"Damn you!" she cried, still disbelieving. "Why would purebloods want anything to do with Mudbloods anyway?"  
  
"Slaves, cooks, cleaners. In ancient times purebloods who tired of their spouses could sire children on Mudbloods and discard them without another thought, so the threat of pregnancy was not there as it would be if they sought relief with another pureblood." Hermione looked so repulsed that he hastily added, "of course that's not why I bought you!"  
  
"Why DID you buy me?" She asked accusingly.  
  
"Like I said, you're very interesting."  
  
"Interesting? INTERESTING?! Then ask me a goddamn question! Take me out for butterbeer!" Exasperated she slid off the desk and punched the wall, but at the last moment her hand swerved away from the wall.  
  
"You can't harm yourself either." Draco explained. "Well, this grants me much easier access to you, and protects you and me, this way I have much more control over you." He shrugged. "It seems very beneficial. Besides, I always have had a penchant for owning things. Curse of my upbringing."  
  
"Things! Why can't you keep it like that? Why do you need to own people as well?" She yelled.  
  
"Calm down Hermione, I'm not going to hurt you or anything! Is it really that bad?" Draco once again moved closer to her, his eyes almost pleading for forgiveness. She said nothing, but her eyes told him that it was really that bad. He almost reached out to remove the medallion, but his pride would not permit him to. At least not till he was finished with her. Whenever that would be. Because it seemed Hermione was full of surprises.  
  
If he kept up eye contact with her though, he felt he would surely rip the thing off her and tell her she was free to go. So he did the first thing that came to mind, and grabbing her, brought his lips to hers.  
  
TBC 


	9. Trysts

Terrifié  
  
Chapter Nine [Trysts]  
  
Last Time:  
  
He almost reached out to remove the medallion, but his pride would not permit him to. At least not till he was finished with her. Whenever that would be. Because it seemed Hermione was full of surprises.  
  
If he kept up eye contact with her though, he felt he would surely rip the thing off her and tell her she was free to go. So he did the first thing that came to mind, and grabbing her, brought his lips to hers.  
  
TBC  
  
Ron crept as stealthily as he could, being 6"2 and still growing, with fierce red hair recognizable from a mile away. He was also rather popular, especially with the ladies, who had begun to take a shine to him last year. In huge numbers.  
  
He wove his way through the bookshelves, further and further back as the library seemed less and less populated, until he was in the Never Used section, which was named accurately. He hadn't seen another person for at least five minutes when he entered the To Be Thrown Out section, where the books were all in stacks that seemed to go on for miles, and dust particles reigned the skies.  
  
He stumbled through these until he reached a well-secluded spot that even Madame Pince had forgotten existed, never mind the students of Hogwarts. The private little table and couch were ideal for secrecy. And curled up on the couch was the reason for Ron's trek into the recesses of the library.  
  
There sat Esmé Suzette Armande. A renowned Hogwarts beauty ever since she had arrived from Beauxbatons the year before last, Esmé was amazingly gorgeous considering she had not a drop of Veela blood. She was so engrossed in her book (Frightfully Frightful Tales: Bloodthirsty Goblins and Vengeful Black Hags), that she didn't even note Ron's presence.  
  
Her chestnut hair hung to her waist poker straight and silky. Her small face was shaped in a perfect heart, and her pale, milky complexion didn't have a single freckle. Her startlingly blue eyes were reminiscent of Ron's own, and though her nose was a little long, it was still adorable. Her lips were small and bow-shaped, this evening colored a bright magenta. Her figure was neat and attractive.  
  
All in all, thought Ron, sighing in contentment with the vision before him, she was absolutely bloody perfect. Well, he conceded, almost bloody perfect.  
  
He knocked lightly on the table to get her attention. She looked up at him and smiled, surprised.  
  
"You're five minutes late, Ronald. Did you bring your notes?" Esmé asked prissily, not a hint of her French accent left unless she wished it to show. Ron smiled.  
  
"I don't think we'll be needing any notes tonight, Miss Armande," he said, equally serious in tone, but wiggling his eyebrows playfully as he plopped down next to her on the couch.  
  
"What are you suggesting, Weasley?" she asked, smiling at him encouragingly.  
  
"You know, I've always fancied that color of magenta. What do you think it would look like on me?" Ron asked conversationally, looking suitably thoughtful and innocent.  
  
"Perhaps we should run an experiment."  
  
"Good idea, Doctor Armande!" Ron said with a grin as she leaned toward him, bringing her lips to his.  
  
Hermione once again found herself pushing against Draco's chest until he finally pulled away, scowling at her.  
  
"What, I was just trying to help?!" he said poutily. How could she push him, the sexy Draco Malfoy of great renown, away in the middle of a kiss. Well, not push exactly, since she couldn't really anymore. But anyway, implied through push-like body language that she wanted him to stop.  
  
"Help?! Is your solution to every problem kissing me?" Hermione asked, disbelieving.  
  
"Well. yes, actually. It's the best method of distraction I really have, unless I use a spell, or randomly run into a wall, which is painful."  
  
"You know what, you're really sad," Hermione said, her voice scornful. A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye and she quickly brushed it away.  
  
"Are you crying?" he asked, peering at her in a mission to discern whether or not she had just wiped away a tear.  
  
"Don't kiss me," she warned dryly.  
  
"I wasn't going to!" Draco said defensively. "You are crying!" He exclaimed.  
  
"Yeah, Einstein." She glared at him, hoping that perhaps this would counter the tears that were springing quickly to her eyes.  
  
It did not.  
  
"Well gee, don't cry Hermione. Why are you crying?" He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder, wondering why he had just said 'gee'.  
  
"Oh my God! You dumbass! I didn't think anyone could be so Jesus thick. Even Ron would have caught on by now!" At this she broke into sobs.  
  
"What? Me thick? Why how dare you! I assume by Ron you mean that Weasley character, and. oh. well, there there. oh don't sob like that, it sounds dreadful. Umm. there there?" Draco patted her shoulder again uncertainly, at which she looked up at him pitifully and held out her arms to him, sobbing gaspily like a two-year-old.  
  
Draco was extremely confused, but put his arms around her in what he hoped was a comforting way.  
  
"There there?" He offered again uncertainly, but it seemed that it didn't help. He walked backwards towards a desk, dragging her with him, but tripped over a chair leg and went sprawling to his behind, Hermione with him. She continued sobbing unperturbed, so he simply sat there with her in his lap sobbing.  
  
He was at a complete loss as to what to do.  
  
"Hey. don't cry, ok? You can't eat spilt milk. or whatever. Hey! Hey, Hermione! Look!" He pointed to the chalkboard. She looked up at it blankly, sniffling. "It's a chalkboard!" He explained. She wailed. "Well hey, it's a rather nice chalkboard, I thought! You don't have to cry about it!"  
  
In spite of herself, Hermione laughed.  
  
"Hey that's the spirit! There there!" Draco was rather excited, his ruse had worked! Or perhaps she was laughing at his idiocy. but still! "So what's wrong, huh?" He asked "gently".  
  
"What do you think? I'm the 'possession' of my worst enemy, who I'm terrified of and defenseless against, and am probably on the verge of entering a whole new scary, bad, secretive relationship. And all this is depressingly legal. How would you feel?"  
  
"Pretty crap. But hey, I'm not scary!"  
  
Ron was attempting to speak. But it was very hard, considering how enthusiastic Esmé was at times.  
  
"Em. Esmé? Hey! Es?" he said, pulling her off of him.  
  
"Mmm?" She smiled up at him, looking attractively ruffled.  
  
"Shouldn't we study at all? This is a tutoring session, right?"  
  
"You don't need to be tutored, that's just a cover-up, Ron." She said, sitting up and attempting to smooth her extremely messy hair. She smiled sweetly at him. "I wuv you Ronnikins! I wuv you yes I do! Don't worry ickle sweet! I wuv you!" Esmé pulled his cheek aggravatingly.  
  
"I told you how much I hate that Es!" Ron said grumpily.  
  
"That's why I do it, wuvver boy!" She smiled at him as though that had been obvious.  
  
"Oh Esmé Suzette, your beauty doth stun me verily, however, also my hunger doth gnaweth verily. tis is not time for supper, verily?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess. I wish it wasn't." She sighed, looking at her watch, then getting up, gathering her books, wiping a bit of lipstick off his face and giving him a parting kiss before sauntering off towards the Never Used section.  
  
He watched her go, and every step she took seemed to dissolve his satisfaction a bit more, and increase his already growing unease about her. What was he doing with her anyway? She was almost perfect, yes, but.  
  
She was a Slytherin. And her parents were none other than the renowned Remi and Geneviéve Armande, high-ranking Death Eaters.  
  
".And then, he lived happily ever after!"  
  
Hermione laughed.  
  
"Wow Draco, never knew you could tell funny stories. or funny anything for that matter!" She said, nudging him playfully. They were sitting side-by- side against the wall, telling jokes and stories.  
  
"Hey, I can be funny when I want to!" He said, smiling.  
  
"You know, we just skipped an entire day of school sitting around." Hermione remembered.  
  
"You're right. ugh we're gonna be in for it!" He laughed again, and stood up, reaching out a hand to assist her. "We should go hide in our dorms for as long as possible. Besides, I'm entirely hungry for supper."  
  
"Me too!"  
  
And so they left their hiding place and went out to face the big bad, angry professor-filled world.  
  
TBC 


	10. Relapse

Terrifié  
  
Chapter Ten [Relapse]  
  
Last Time:  
  
And so they left their hiding place and went out to face the big, bad, angry professor-filled world.  
  
TBC  
  
Don rolled off the dirty mattress, and onto the clothing-covered floor, stood up and looked down at Maxine, or Maureen, or whatever that red- headed, leopard-skinned, leathered up chic's name was. He had met her last night in that bar, whatchamacallit, you know, Dungeon Black? Whatever. She had looked a lot better last night, he thought gloomily as he looked at her sprawled naked body, which was beginning to age (like his own).  
  
He turned to survey the room, which was dark (due to a raggedy burgundy towel hung over the window with staples) and messy. Somehow he managed to pick his own clothes out of the faux fur and too-tight mess of Maxine/Maureen's. He got dressed quickly, and sniffed himself. He smelled disgusting. The charming mix of stale alcohol, cigarettes, cheap perfume (Maxine/Maureen's) and sweat would doubtless offend his elder sister and her husband. Which was not good, seeing as he was their permanent houseguest.  
  
He walked home grumpily, snarling at kids who stared at him and kicking trash on the sidewalk. Maxine/Maureen had been an ok shag, but he still felt totally drained and unhappy. No one had that certain special something that his niece, Hermione, had. He was too cowardly to beat or abuse any one else, most women and most girls would tell someone. But his Hermione had always been so docile and loving, and he'd had a long time to work on her, to teach her what he liked. Submission, and fear. It made him feel powerful.  
  
Suppose I'm a bit of a sadist, he thought, chuckling. He stared at a passing girl, whose mother glared at him. "Yeesh lady, one pretty girly you got there!" he yelled after her, smiling mockingly. The woman quickened her step, dragging her daughter.  
  
"Pervert." He heard her mutter to herself as she shot him one last scowl.  
  
Jeez. People are so uptight these days.  
  
It was Saturday morning and just about everyone but Hermione and Draco was in Hogsmeade. They had been banned from it as punishment for yesterday's transgression, but it did not seem so bad in comparison to other punishments which they had received.  
  
When Hermione climbed out of the portrait hole, the first thing that caught her eye was Draco, leaning across the hall from her smugly, with that ever- present smirk. And for the first time in. well, ever. she didn't feel scared or angry.  
  
"Fuck you, you stalker." She muttered out of habit as she swept past him. The Fat Lady tutted.  
  
"Romance these days is strange, strange, strange." She said sadly.  
  
Draco merely laughed and caught up with Hermione quickly.  
  
"C'mon, you know you could look at my gorgeous face 24/7, doll."  
  
"God, even Filch couldn't come up with something more disgusting and painful than that punishment. Please no, Malfoy!" She said, quickening her pace in what she was aware was a completely futile effort to lose the long- legged Slytherin. It was more token than anything. Hey, at least she tried.  
  
He caught up to her with ease and she was already panting, so she gave up. "Cranky, Granger?"  
  
"Wouldn't you be if you had this constant disgusting smell following you everywhere? Oh wait, you do smell yourself don't you?"  
  
"Oh, ouch. My heart is bleeding. That was harsh." He smirked and tugged her hair playfully. "You know you love this cologne!"  
  
"Can't say I smell it over the powerful Sleazy Slytherin scent you're emitting!" She shrugged as if to say, 'what can I do?!'.  
  
"Here," he said, grabbing her and pulling her head to his neck. "Smell!"  
  
Actually, Hermione thought, it was rather nice. Hints of mint and snow and water on branches, with just the lightest touch of cinnamon and warmth.  
  
"What do you think, yummy and scrumptious?" Draco asked, smiling assuredly.  
  
"Yeah, actually. can't say it suits you very well. Couldn't you find anything more rotten-egg, sour-milk-ish?" Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled away from him.  
  
"ok, ok. I give up. You have an endless source of insults, Hermione. It's amazing."  
  
"Almost as amazing as the fact that you still haven't taken a hint and left me alone? You are truly astonishingly thick, Malfoy."  
  
"Well hey, I own you, I retain the right to pester you incessantly." "I HATE YOU!" Hermione yelled angrily, reminded abruptly of his evilness. She stopped, turned toward him and glared.  
  
"Gosh, mood swings much? What was that about?" Draco seemed confused and a little offended by the sudden change of tone.  
  
"You owning me? Perhaps? Just a little? You're such a goddamned conceited spoiled inconsiderate bastard you know?!" Hermione felt herself growing angrier and angrier, more at the fact that she was a possession than at him.  
  
"Don't speak to me like that, you mudblood bitch!" Draco yelled, his temper quickly overtaking him at her words. He grabbed her and flung her against the wall, quickly following to hold her there with his forearm pressed horizontally against her throat. He saw the fear well up in her eyes as quickly as the anger had in her heart.  
  
"Draco." Her voice was stiffly controlled, but they both knew how afraid she was. And how vulnerable.  
  
"Hadn't we decided that you'd start calling me master?" He asked nastily, his voice like a slap. There was a long silence as he stared into her eyes. His own were pure, unbreachable steel. "Well?" He finally asked. She knew what he wanted.  
  
"Master." Hermione gazed at a point above his head. Her heart was racing a million miles a minute, it was beating so hard that it hurt her chest. His arm on her throat was painful though she could breathe and talk well, and it chafed horribly.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
She was horrified. for a moment she had thought this was all a silly game. she had forgotten to be afraid, she had trusted, she had. Oh God.  
  
"What would you wish for me to do?" She replied, still staring above him.  
  
"Look at me." She obeyed, and lowered her gaze to his own. "Apologize."  
  
"I don't." His arm went tighter against her throat and she felt his free hand land softly on her hip. Her fear was unbearable, she could barely swallow. "I am sorry, Master." She choked it out, the words tasted like bile. With Don it was different. she truly belonged to Don, what he did to her was what she deserved, filthy as she was, but with Draco. did she deserve this? Maybe, but it did not stop her from hating him.  
  
"Say 'I am sorry I offended you Master. I am merely a simple diversion, an object, for your use.'"  
  
She repeated what he said, turning her head away from him while she did so and closing her eyes. She was feeling rather faint, and the fear was making her want to be sick. "You whore." He finally took his arm away from her neck and she stumbled a little, turning to face the wall, using it to support her. He stood a few steps back, watching her. "I said 'You whore'." He repeated himself for her benefit. "don't you even care, Hermione?" His use of her name felt like a dagger in Hermione's heart. She turned to face him, still leaning on the wall.  
  
"You only told me what I already know, Master."  
  
TBC ________________________________________________________________________ 


	11. Gift

Terrifié  
  
Chapter Eleven [Gift]  
  
Last Time:  
  
She was feeling rather faint, and the fear was making her want to be sick. "You whore." He finally took his arm away from her neck and she stumbled a little, turning to face the wall, using it to support her. He stood a few steps back, watching her. "I said 'You whore'." He repeated himself for her benefit. "don't you even care, Hermione?" His use of her name felt like a dagger in Hermione's heart. She turned to face him, still leaning on the wall.  
  
"You only told me what I already know, Master." TBC  
***  
  
She lay in her bed in the dark, soft breaths punctuating the silence close together; panicked breaths. She replayed the incident in her head over and over again. The arm against her throat. Whore. Repeat what he said. Master. Heart filled with fear, repulsion and shame. "When someone abuses you, you are an object for their pleasure. They treat you like you're worthless, and you feel worthless. Utterly worthless. You never stop loving him, you stop loving yourself. That is the terrible aftermath of abuse." The quote floated into her mind, she couldn't remember where she had heard it. She remembered the speaker's voice, quavering and tear-filled, so full of truth and pain, eloquent, soaring into the hearts of her audience, bringing tears to their eyes. Then that voice transformed into the raw emotion of a sob, being led away, hidden behind a curtain. Never to be heard again? The question hung in the air.  
*** Draco paced the floor of his room like a caged animal. A fucking pissed animal. He sat on his bed, stood again abruptly, walked to the wall, leaned against it, turned and punched it. "Fuck!" He spit the word out, shaking his hand painfully. He felt so frustrated and bursting with indecision and confusion. What the fuck had he just done? Well, what the bitch had deserved, how dare she talk to him like that?! She was asking for it, saying those things. So why did he feel like such an ass? His mission to understand Hermione was not going as planned. So far he had succeeded in buying her, gaining her trust, betraying her, hurting her and scaring her. Good going, dumb-ass. He punched the wall again. And what more did he really know about her? A little about her situation at home, that she didn't like being a possession, that she was terrified of men, that she didn't like being a possession, that she had a biting wit. All things he could have easily deduced without any contact. Malfoy- 0 Granger- 1 Malfoy flopped onto his bed and put his hands over his face. What in the hell? He was trying, and NOT succeeding? This was not an acceptable occurrence. Damn, he'd know her by the end of the year. How much of her could there be to know? She would turn out to be just like the rest of them, empty and unworthy. But somehow that thought didn't comfort Draco as much as it usually did, and he fell asleep with an invading bitter feeling occupying his heart. Unwelcome.  
***  
  
Ron rolled over in bed so his face was away from the light spilling through the curtains of his bed, mumbling something incoherent. He was bloody exhausted. He had been spending so much time "tutoring" Esmé that he barely had time to work on his own studies, and frequently pulled overnighters on the day before a big essay was due, or a test. He was not getting much sleep. He pulled his blanket over his head and snuggled into his pillow, smiling.  
  
Esmé was worth it.  
  
He has just begun to drift off into a lovely dream of playing in the snow with her, in front of everyone, not having to hide their relationship, when one of the main reasons they DID have to poked his head around the curtain. And then pulled it open with a flourish, letting in a flood of light.  
  
"Rise and shine, Ronniekins!" Harry called cheerfully, poking a lump in the bed which he assumed was Ron.  
  
"Go 'way, Harry. 'M tired." Ron groaned.  
  
"Yes, but remember what today is? We're having the big quidditch match today! So we were going to get up early and practice! C'mon Ron, we're against Slytherin. And they're deadly this year!" Harry pried the covers out of Ron's hands and pulled them off the bed.  
  
"Bugger off, Harry! For the love of Merlin, what time is it? Give me back my blankies!" Ron whinged helplessly as Harry dragged him into a sitting position and threw a quidditch uniform at him. "Stop your whining you little prat, and go get into this. And brush your teeth, your breath is abominable." Harry tapped his foot to further display his impatience.  
  
"Fine, ya dirty wanker." Ron grumbled, rushing into the bathroom as Harry raised a menacing slipper and took aim.  
  
Within ten minutes they were headed toward the field in the chill morning dew, with their broomsticks under their arms.  
  
***  
  
Hermione saw the boys from the tower window, and wished them luck. She had been sitting, numb from the cold, for more hours than she could remember. She had woken from a hot, restless sleep in the middle of the night, and had climbed to the window to look at the stars and cool off. And she had watched as the stars faded and the sun rose with her forehead against the glass and a dazed expression on her face. But the sight of the boys moving across the grounds brought her quickly back to reality.  
  
She hopped down from the windowsill gingerly, feeling acutely the ache in all her limbs upon impact with the cold stone floor. She walked stiffly to the bathroom and peered at her reflection. There was a large red blotch from where she had peeled her forehead off the glass. And unfortunately there were also faint blue marks on her throat from Draco's lesson of the previous night. She sighed and took her bottle of concealer from the cabinet, where it had been dormant for a little while. Her bruises from Don were fading, but now she was receiving new ones.  
  
Although she was tired of endless bottles of concealer and struggling to find excuses for the occasional mark she missed, in a way she loved her bruises, cuts and scars. The blues and purples and reds that decorated her pale white body seemed almost pretty. And they relieved the solitude of being so utterly alone... they knew. They knew about her, and about Don, and about Draco. They told her story. And even if she had to cover them to stop them from revealing that story to others, it was comforting to know that they were there. Sharing the burden. A constant reminder of who she was.  
  
***  
  
At breakfast Hogwarts was a noisy place, because it seemed that, contradictory to popular belief, the students were morning people. Or perhaps more like derangedly hyper people suffering from lack of sleep. The Breakfast Rush was commonly acknowledged, after your shower and coffee when you sat and chatted and giggled with your friends. And then, at the beginning of your second class, or maybe the middle if you were lucky, when you started to droop. By the time lunch came around you were dragging about, yawning and blinking confusedly.  
  
But right now the hall was a-bustle with people cheerily devouring croissants or eggs and sausage or whatever. Harry and Ron came in breathing hard and with frost on their shoulders, grins on their faces, and Hermione on their tail. "You know, you really shouldn't go out and practice like that unless you've had something to eat, or an energy bar or something. Your body is running on empty in the morning. It's dangerous with Quidditch, and Growing Young Boys. Bananas are good I've heard. But really, take me seriously here. And I bet you didn't drink any water beforehand either, did you? Did you know that the human body requires 8 glasses of water a day to replenish it's sources? It's a wonder you aren't dying from dehydration. Both of you look a little parched! Honestly, I..." Hermione paused to take a breath and Harry grabbed the golden chance to cut in.  
  
"Listen Hermione, we're fine ok? We'll take some bananas out next time, and water bottles. Promise."  
  
"Well, ok. Just don't forget. If you faint up there you've got a long way to fall." Hermione raised her eyebrows warningly as she sat down between the two of them, and poured herself a glass of juice. She glanced around the hall casually and froze as her eyes rested on Draco. She felt numbed from her exhaustion and the chill she had got last night, but a wave of cold still swept over her at the sight of him. She was too out of it to know what to think about last night, or what emotions she was feeling, except fear.  
  
She was still watching as he looked up, feeling her eyes on him. He didn't smirk, or raise his eyebrows haughtily or anything. He seemed equally bewildered by the happenings of the previous night, and the dark circles marring the usually fair skin under his eyes indicated he hadn't had much sleep either. His expression was not the carefully blank one he so often presented her with, but an unguarded display of weariness and, perhaps guilt?  
  
Hermione did not notice that her juice was pouring over the top of the glass until Ginny helpfully yelled, "MIONE! Your juice is spilling over!" With a start Hermione set the jug back on the table and looked in dismay at the juice which had flooded over the table and into her lap. The other Gryffindors chuckled sympathetically and Ginny handed her a napkin, but it was no use, she had to go change into other robes. She got up and left the Great Hall sighing. Wonderful. Another trip up the many stairs to her dorm. She was barely out the door when she heard footsteps pursuing her.  
  
And of course she didn't really have to guess who they belonged to. She stopped and turned to face Malfoy.  
  
"Master, are you in need of something?" She asked politely, curtsying.  
  
"Yes I bloody well am, and don't call me Master." Draco grabbed her sleeve and led her into one of those deserted corridors that always seemed to be so handy when he needed them.  
  
"But last night you-" Hermione was cut off as Draco momentarily stopped his pacing to interrupt.  
  
"Forget last night. You see, I'msorryboutthatiwasajerkiknowfucki'mstupidandgodididn'tmeanto..." Draco was mumbling into his own chest, his blond head bowed.  
  
"Umm Master, I didn't get anything after "last night". You are going to have to speak up."  
  
"Don't call me master, I bloody said! I'm sorry about last night, ok? I was a fucking arse to act like that and I don't know what came over me. So I'm sorry." Draco looked up from the floor, a spark of hope in his eyes.  
  
"Well, thanks I guess... Ma-Malfoy." Hermione stuttered, not knowing what to say. Last night had been normal... he had barely punished her at all for how out of line she had been. "I'm sorry too, for not obeying you, and for being rude."  
  
"Well fuck Hermione, you don't have to obey me... Just call me Draco. Say Draco."  
  
"Draco." She repeated after him softly, her voice almost a whisper.  
  
"I don't want to be your master... I just...want..." Draco trailed off helplessly. He didn't know what he wanted. Hermione lifted the medallion hopefully, her eyes glistening with tears. He stepped closer, taking the medallion in his hands. But instead of taking it off her used it to gently pull her towards him and kiss her softly. His lips were coaxing, pleading. Please be mine. He felt her relax into the kiss, but knew instinctively he tasted defeat on her lips, not wilful submission. He pulled away. "I just... want you Hermione." He shrugged, trying to portray to her his feeling of absolute desire for her, transcending lust or infatuation. He wanted everything about her, her smile, her thoughts, her habits...  
  
He watched as the glimmer that had been in her eye only seconds ago was abruptly gone. The windows to her soul were slammed shut, her eyes darkened with pain. She leaned into him, resting her head softly on his chest. Their arms drew around each other, his supporting her, hers trying to syphon what comfort and strength she could from his body into hers.  
  
"Draco, just take me. Please. I'm yours. Consider me a gift. From Hermione to you. Do whatever you want to me. Let's just get it over with. Please. Please please please. I'm tired." Hermione closed her eyes, expecting any moment to be either thrown against the wall, beaten and otherwise abused. What she felt instead was the soft touch of Draco's hand against her cheek, turning her face up to his.  
  
"Thank you. Slytherin is playing Gryffindor tomorrow. Be there. Root for me, ok?" Draco asked, smiling slightly. Hermione inhaled deeply, smelling his cologne that she had always secretly loved.  
  
"Ok." She promised simply. "Are you going now?" She asked, seeming almost regretful. She suddenly felt safe in his arms, for a fleeting moment until she remember that he was just like Don.  
  
"Yeah, we've got classes, remember Know-It-All?" Draco smirked and Hermione reached to kiss him goodbye.  
  
"Hermione, don't ever kiss me unless you want it. Understand?" He said, seeming suddenly offended as he realized she was once again trying to appease him. She nodded and he gently let her go, brushing her cheek with his hand one last time before he strode off down the hall purposefully. Hermione touched one hand to her cheek and one to her lips. So, she had made herself into a gift to Draco Malfoy. What next? To her surprise, Hermione felt almost... eager, to see what would happen next.  
  
She would be rooting for Draco at the game tomorrow.  
  
TBC  
*** 


	12. Tear of a Slave

Terrifié  
  
Chapter Twelve [Tear of a Slave]  
  
Last Time:  
  
"Hermione, don't ever kiss me unless you want it. Understand?" He said, seeming suddenly offended as he realized she was once again trying to appease him. She nodded and he gently let her go, brushing her cheek with his hand one last time before he strode off down the hall purposefully.  
  
Hermione touched one hand to her cheek and one to her lips. So, she had made herself into a gift to Draco Malfoy. What next? To her surprise, Hermione felt almost... eager, to see what would happen next.  
  
She would be rooting for Draco at the game tomorrow.  
  
TBC  
***  
  
"So, have you got much of your Christmas shopping done yet?" Ginny inquired of Hermione casually the next day as they made their way towards the Quidditch pitch to watch the game. Hermione snapped to attention.  
  
"Christmas? What are you talking about?!" She asked, her voice edgy. Ginny looked at her in surprise.  
  
"Mione, you have got to be kidding me! You always finish getting gifts so early. Well, as you know, it's Friday, and we are all going home next Wednesday. Although I suppose this is a Hogsmeade weekend. Don't worry about it or anything." Ginny looked at her friend's expression, still shell- shocked, amusedly. "Sneak up on you then, did it?" She poked Hermione playfully in the ribs.  
  
"Yeah, I guess it did..." Hermione started at the poke and quickly smiled, but the look in her eyes told that she was in a faraway place.  
  
***  
  
Draco soared around on his broom, loving the cold wind and fresh air. He was looking for the Snitch, but also for Hermione in the stands. He hoped she had come. He spotted her in the Gryffindor stands next to that young Weasel girl, Janet. He noted with a flush of pleasure that she was not wearing any red or gold, just a simple black coat with a half-hidden green scarf. But he'd concentrate on the game. So far the teams were tied 50-50. It was a good game, fast with a lot of action. Both the Gryffindor and Slytherin team were very good this year. But the seekers were weaving around with no sighitng of the Snitch yet. Harry was shooting Draco malicious glances, but Draco preferred to keep his eye out for the little golden ball instead of focussing on the boy-who-smelled. And then he spotted it. Hovering near the ground in the centre of the field. Draco looked about to see where Harry was. He was floating about higher up and over a little, obviously he hadn't seen it yet. Draco allowed himself a small smile as he tilted his broom downwards and sped towards the far-off glint. Soon he heard the gasps that meant the crowd had noticed him. And he could sense Potter on his tail, quickly gaining. Potter's broom was faster this year, damn him, and soon enough they were almost head-to-head, with Draco retaining the lead by mere centimetres. Draco sensed something wrong as slowly the cheering died into dead silence, everyone in the stadium focussed , breathless, on the two figures hurtling at high speed towards the ground, head-first. And suddenly he realized how fast he was going, and how close he was getting to the ground. But, he had to beat Potter, he had to...  
  
And then Potter pulled out of the dive.  
  
And Draco saw the Snitch before him.  
  
He reached out and closed his fingers around it, feeling that familiar, wonderful feeling of it's tiny wings fluttering against his skin, before he crashed into the hard, cold earth. The scoreboard changed and Slytherin had won, but no one cheered, or even noticed. All eyes watched as Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore ran over to where the Slytherin Prince was sprawled on the ground, a shock of paleness on the frosty green grass.  
  
***  
  
Hermione watched as the two boys plummeted towards the golden glint, and vaguely wondered if that tiny ball was worth all this. Whether it was worth Harry's life. Or Draco's. She remained almost suspended in time as she watched Harry pull out at the last minute. But for some reason she did not stop watching, did not sigh in relief and smile as Ginny and the other Gryffindors did.  
  
As she watched Draco crash, his hand closing around the glint just moments before, she felt the icy steel hand close around her heart tightly, and she felt paralysed. The wave of fear swept over her, painful and immobilising. She watched in horror as the professors dashed to where he lay, and suddenly, she snapped out of it.  
  
Pushing Ginny out of the way, she ran down the row of seats, banging people and not stopping to apologize. She raced down the stairs and onto the field, her small figure surprising the people watching as it rushed to where the small group was huddled. The players were still floating in the air, watching from above.  
  
Hermione reached them and slowed down, squeezing through Flitwick and Snape, not caring about touching him, she just had to get to Draco. She knelt beside him and touched his face.  
  
"Miss Granger, please stand back. Mr. Malfoy needs immediate medical attention! Miss Granger!" Miss Pomfrey was silenced by Dumbledore, who shook his head at her forbiddingly. His forehead crinkled in concern as he watched the two students. Hermione felt for a pulse and found one, faint, but there. She collapsed onto Draco, hugging him gently, not wanting to hurt him. His robes had come undone at the top, exposing his chest. The medallion fell out of her robes and onto his skin. Hermione rested her face next to it and a tear leaked onto his chest as well. Suddenly a golden glow washed over them both and medallion rattled, before everything returned to normal, leaving the audience doubting their own minds. The tremendous silence was broken as Draco suddenly got up, seeming perfectly fine, and asked loudly, "Well what are you's all bloody lookin' at? I won didn't I?" Before also helping Hermione to her feet.  
  
"I think the two of you have some explaining to do. My office. Now." Dumbledore was stern, the usual sparkle in his eye vanished. He walked off the field and the two students followed, wondering what was in store for them... and what had just happened.  
  
The group of professors left behind exchanged glances. Trouble was a- brewing. Of that you could be sure.  
  
***  
  
Draco and Hermione sat uneasily in two chairs facing Dumbledore's desk. Albus was taking his time about making himself a cup of tea. Finally he dropped a sugar cube into his mug, contemplated it as it slowly dissolved for a moment before abruptly spinning to face the two nervous youth.  
  
"So. I am going to give you a chance to explain yourselves... although I don't believe what I saw today could be anything but what I think it is. But, to be fair... what is your explanation of this afternoon's occurences?" He looked at the two questioningly, then began to stir his tea.  
  
"Err, well I dunno. All I remember was falling, and then blackness. And then waking up and feeling fine. Ask her, she was conscious." Draco looked at Hermione.  
  
"I-I don't really... I just saw him fall, and then it was like I was possessed. I just knew I had to get to him... I just had to." Hermione paused, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. "And then, he was lying there, so... broken. So I went to him. What else could I have done? And then there was this warm feeling, and some faint humming, and that golden glow thing, and everything was happy and good for a moment. And then he was ok." She shrugged helplessly and stared at the floor, memorizing the carpet.  
  
There was silence in the office, except for the clinking music of Albus' spoon against his cup as he added another sugar cube and stirred. A cold wind blew through an open window, and he looked up slowly. It slammed closed. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.  
  
"Well. What I meant was, of course, the medallion. It fell onto Draco's bare skin, along with one of your tears. Draco was badly hurt, Miss Granger. Badly hurt. Miss Pomfrey believed his spine was broken and his skull perhaps cracked... he would not have lived." Draco shuddered and Hermione unconsciously bit her lip. "Now, although I'm sure you are aware," A dark glance. "The touch of a golden ownership medallion and the tear of a slave can save an owner's life. No other medallion has this power. So I have assumed, rightly I think, that you Draco, have bought Hermione." Dumbledore looked over the top of his half-moon glasses at them, looking none to pleased. Draco swallowed guiltily and nodded, and Hermione was almost dizzy from staring at the pattern of the carpet.  
  
"Yes, sir." Draco said in a cold, proud voice, raising his head. "And it is fully legal, mind you." He added, raising an eyebrow. Dumbledore shook his head.  
  
"Unfortunately, yes it is. Although it will be illegal by the end of this week. You are lucky... or unlucky, in the case of Miss Granger. Hermione, I regret to tell you that although the practice of owning Muggleborns is soon to be outlawed, there is no way to set free the slaves already bought. The only way this bond can be broken is by the owner himself. Fortunately the practice is not common and there are a mere few hundred slaves in all of the wizarding world. It is encouraged that owners set their slaves free, but there is no more we can do..." He took a sip of his tea, the skin around his mouth wrinkling as he pursed his lips.  
  
"Can I be on my way then? I'd like to go celebrate with my teammates." Draco's voice was void of emotion and he was looking out the window neutrally.  
  
"No, Mr. Malfoy. I'm sure your teammates will be celebrating for a while yet. For a moment you must remain here." He took another sip of tea. "Now. Is there any chance you are willing to give up ownership of Hermione? To set her free?"  
  
Hermione looked up, her gasp audible. She watched Draco. There was silence. They noticed the ticking of a clock. Footfall in a distant corridor.  
  
"No." No quaver in that voice, no uncertainty. Simple steel.  
  
Dumbledore set his cup down with a clink.  
  
"Well, I suppose there is nothing more I can do here. You are dismissed Mr. Malfoy, but I'd like to have a word with Miss Granger."  
  
Draco stood up, nodded to first Dumbledore and then to Hermione, turned on heel, and left the office. The two remaining listened to his receding footsteps as he jogged down the stairs. Hermione did not feel afraid of Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"Look at me Hermione." Hermione met his blue eyes and found they were once again warm and twinkling. She felt slightly reassured. "If he hurts you, in any way, you must come tell me immediately. I cannot break the bond between you... how I wish I could... but I will not allow you to suffer." He stood and walked round the desk, standing next to her. Hermione also stood and they hugged. She was surprised at how much comfort she found in him. "I am so sorry Hermione. I am desperately sorry. I would give most anything in exchange for your freedom. I am always here for you." He pulled back and looked at her sincerely, nodding. "I am sure Harry and Ron are worried about you. Go find them." He smiled and gently pushed her towards the stairwell. At then entranceway she paused, turned and said in an almost- whisper,  
  
"Thank-you, Albus."  
  
TBC  
  
*** 


	13. Rain

Terrifié  
  
Chapter Thirteen [Rain]  
  
Last Time:  
  
He smiled and gently pushed her towards the stairwell. At then entranceway she paused, turned and said in an almost-whisper,  
  
"Thank-you, Albus."  
  
TBC  
***  
  
The rain started slowly. It fell gently onto the ground, nourishing it. The sky was light grey and the grass was brilliant emerald.  
  
But it didn't stop. The clouds grew dark and the rain beat down upon the castle and grounds, pounding on the rooves and windows.  
  
The rain kept coming. Leaks sprung. Streams formed in the grass. The lake rose. The giant squid played.  
  
Hermione sat in a window in the astronomy tower. The rain fell so fast it distorted her vision. Sheets of water poured off the eaves. It was Saturday morning, 7 o'clock. She had woken at 6:30 and not been able to get back to sleep. The sound of the rain disturbed her. She has this irrational feeling that if it kept on they would all be swept away. Maybe God was wiping the slate clean once again. Maybe somewhere someone was hurrying, stowing the last few animals onto their ark. She carried her blanket up to the Astronomy tower and sat silently.  
  
Draco lay in bed, not having slept that night. He listened to the rain as well. He turned onto his side, closed his eyes and pulled the blankets around him tighter. But he still heard the rain.  
  
Dumbledore sat with McGonagall in his office and they talked quietly. The clink-clink of their spoons against their mugs seemed so sweet and light against the loud drumming of the rain.  
  
Breakfast was subdued. Hermione made her way down with Ron and Harry in silence. She saw Draco and looked away tiredly. The circles under his eyes had darkened.  
  
Students sloshed their way towards Hogsmeade. Their umbrellas would fly away or turn inside out if they were not careful. Hermione, Ron, Harry and Ginny went together, huddling together under two umbrellas. Hermione wore Muggle clothing for once, jeans and a sweater, a yellow raincoat and yellow rainboots. Harry wore a similar outfit, and Ron and Ginny looked at them curiously. Despite their umbrellas, by the time they reached Hogsmeade, the four friends were soaked. Hermione wiped her face with her sodden sleeve, and wrung out her hair. They stomped their feet on the wet mat at The Three Broomsticks, and warmed up with Butterbeers.  
  
"I've got to go Christmas shopping, so I've got to go by myself. I don't need an umbrella." Hermione said.  
  
"Well I'm all done my shopping, I just want to go to Zonko's." Ron said, and Harry and Ginny agreed.  
  
"I'll just see you guys back at Hogwarts then ok? I might be late. Don't worry." Hermione hugged her friends goodbye and was about to leave.  
  
"You sure you don't need an umbrella?" Harry asked, catching her arm and looking concerned.  
  
"I'm already soaked!" Hermione laughed lightly.  
  
"Well don't catch a cold now, that'd be horrible!" Ginny said, feeling her face to see if she was chilled.  
  
"And be careful! Don't go off the main street, this place could be dangerous. Actually, maybe I'd better come with you-"  
  
"No Ron! I'll be fine! I know how to take care of myself guys, honestly. And I've got my wand... come to think of it..." Hermione flicked her wand, muttered something under her breath and was instantly dry, except for her hair, which was annoying exempt from most common drying spells. She smiled at her friends and escaped out the door before they could make any further comments.  
  
She was already soaked again by the time she got to a little shop. She walked through the aisles looking for gifts. She found some pretty wrapping paper and a magical mirror which said encouraging things for Ginny, as well as some neat moving figurines for her Dad. She went next to the bookstore, where she got her mother the "Simple Introduction to the Wizarding World" which was meant specifically for Muggle parents, and a journal with a picture of a couple dancing on the front. They moved to whatever music you were playing. She found some magazines for Lavi and Pavi and moved on. She got Ron a new scarf and decided to give him some spending money. She couldn't think of what to get for Harry though.  
  
She stood on the street, looking at the stores around her and wondering. She saw a store she hadn't noticed and walked towards it to take a closer look. The fading sign read, "The Toy and Trinket Shop". She smiled and went in, a bell ringing as she did. The store was dusty and obviously didn't get many visitors, but she found the things in it to be rather fascinating. She eventually decided to get Harry a pen that wrote in any colour you thought of, and a little snitch that flew around. She brought the items to the counter, and looked around. There was no one there. She rang the bell on the counter and waited, but still no one came. She rang again, and decided to wait for just another few minutes before giving up. They were such nice gifts. She looked into a display case at the counter. There were several books and some pens and watches. And then she saw it. It was a silver cloak pin in the shape of a roaring dragon, with emerald eyes. As soon as she saw it she thought of Malfoy. She hadn't planned on getting him a Christmas present, but it seemed so perfect....  
  
There was a cough and an old man drew aside a curtain from behind the counter and limped up to the cash register. He had a cane and short grey hair, and a little grey beard. His eyes were an unusual light green color.  
  
"Hello there. Sorry about the wait, I was in the attic. Don't get much business in here." He shrugged and smiled apologetically, ringing in the items she had laid on the counter. "Is that it, miss?" He asked, looking at her with an eyebrow raised. Hermione took a breath.  
  
"Actually..." She gestured toward the display case. "I'd like to get that silver dragon cloak pin as well, please." She said, indicating which one she meant. The old man smiled.  
  
"Aah. Good choice... that's no simple cloak pin. It records and plays back as well. The instructions are included." He opened the case with a key from around his neck, took the pin out and it put it in a little black box with the instructions, and rang up the price. She paid him and he handed her a bag. "Thank-you very much, Miss, it's been a pleasure dealing with you. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas." The old man smiled one last time and then walked creakily back behind the curtain. Hermione left and went to Honeydukes to get some treats for the outside of the gifts, and then went outside yet again. It was still pouring and water ran over and around the cobblestones of the street. Hermione decided she had finished all her shopping and was about to head back to Hogwarts when there was a loud crack of thunder and a lightning bolt lit up the sky. A strong gust of wind came up and one of her lighter bags somehow got loose.  
  
"Fuck!" Hermione cried, although she rarely swore. She chased after it down the road as it bounced on the cobblestones, splashing. She finally caught it but slipped in a puddle and crashed into it face first. She lay there for a moment before she sat up, slouching dejectedly. "Oh Merlin above." She said, a tear of exasperation mingling with the raindrops pouring down her face. At least her bags were plastic. She couldn't really work up the energy or desire to stand up, so she simply sat there, letting the rain thoroughly drench her and people weave around her, looking at her curiously before rushing on. She sneezed four times in a row, and then moaned. This was really not a good day. A cold was the last thing she needed. She wished she had of stayed with Harry, Ron and Ginny. Or in the Three Broomsticks. Or that someone would find her.  
  
"Hermione?!" She heard a voice yell. Running footsteps behind her, someone's hand on her shoulder. She looked up.  
  
"Oh. Hi." She said simply. Who else would it have been but Malfoy? Life was like that.  
  
Cruel.  
  
"Hi?... Hi?! What are you doing? You're going to die of cold! I've got a room rented in the Hog's Head, come on!" He pulled her arm, but she didn't move. His hair was plastered to his head and his robes were completely sodden. He peered at her through the descending dark and rain. "Hermione, are you ok?" She stared at him.  
  
"I guess." She said, when she realized he wanted her to answer. He bent down and picked her up, bags and all, and ran with her to the Inn. They barely merited any attention at the bar, it being crowded, and Draco carried her up the stairs, unlocked a door, and kicked it open. He flopped her down into an armchair, shut the door, and watched her from the corner of his eye as he took off his robes and shoes, performed a drying spell, and shook his hair. The room was a fading peach colour and dimly lit, and held a single bed and bedside table. There was a door leading to the bathroom. The armchair Hermione sat in was the only one in the room. Draco took the bags out of her hands and lay them to the side, then left. He came back a few moments later and looked at Hermione She sneezed 6 times in a row.  
  
"Oh God, don't tell me you've got a cold! That's awful!" He said, shaking his head, which was still wet. She looked up at him and smiled.  
  
"Well thanks for the little break. I must be on my way now. Got to get back to school..." She said, beginning to do a kind of slide out of the armchair.  
  
"Are you kidding me? Hermione it's dark and dangerous out. And besides that, there's a storm! The wind is really up and it's thunder and lightening!" As if to prove his point, the room lit up and there was a loud rumble. "I've already written to the teachers saying that we're here, I'm sure they'll be fine with it." Draco crossed an arms in a way that meant she should not argue. Hermione was too tired to argue anyway. She sneezed.  
  
"Ok." She said simply.  
  
"You look like a drowned rat." Draco stated truthfully, prying her boots off and taking her coat as well. He turned the boots upside down over the heater and a load of water came out and sizzled. He hung the coat and turned back to her. He performed a drying spell and took off her socks, and then wrung out her hair. Hermione sat passively through all of this. Wetness had always drained her, when she was home her mother did these things for her. He stood back and looked at her. She looked back. And sneezed. He put her in the bed with a box of tissues next to her, and then turned up the heat in the room. He dried off the armchair and sat down with a book.  
  
Hermione watched him, and blew her nose. They listened to the sounds of the rain outside.  
  
"Go to sleep Hermione." He said. "I'll sleep on the floor." He went back to reading. Hermione sneezed. After ten minutes he looked up again. She was still looking at him.  
  
"What?" He asked, annoyed that she wasn't asleep.  
  
"I'm cold." She said.  
  
"The heat's up as high as it goes. Sorry." He got up and checked around for extra blankets, found one, and put it over her. She turned back a corner of the blankets and looked at him. "I said I'd sleep on the floor, it's fine." He said, shaking his head.  
  
"I'm cold though." She said. Draco sighed, put his book away, turned off the light, and got in bed next to her, flicking off the bedside table lamp. He stayed at the very edge of the bed, careful not to touch her. He stared at the ceiling. He felt a hand on his arm, pulling him closer.  
  
"You'll fall off." Hermione said, sniffling. He handed her a tissue. She pulled him a little closer. And then tried to pull him closer again, but he wouldn't budge anymore. He stared at the ceiling again. He wasn't really that tired. He was uncomfortable. He wasn't used to being in bed with girls he wasn't... sleeping with. Well, he was sleeping with Hermione. But sleeping with in that other way... he stared at the ceiling.  
  
Hermione squirmed closer. She inched slowly towards him. Until finally, before he had fully realized, she was snuggled closely to his side with her arm wrapped around him, and her head on his chest.  
  
He looked down, wondering how this had happened while he was staring at the ceiling. He put an arm around her, and looked down. Her breathing had deepened and turned rhythmical. Her eyes were closed.  
  
"Hermione?" He whispered. She didn't answer. Suddenly he felt very warm, and tired.  
  
He fell asleep.  
  
The rain fell from the dark clouds, and lightning and thunder crashed down upon Hogsmeade. But Hermione and Draco slept on, silent except for the occasional sniffle.  
  
TBC  
  
*** 


	14. Help Me

Terrifié  
  
Chapter Fourteen [Help Me]  
  
Last Time:  
  
The rain fell from the dark clouds, and lightning and thunder crashed down upon Hogsmeade. But Hermione and Draco slept on, silent except for the occasional sniffle.  
  
TBC  
***  
  
Hermione awoke, snuggling closer to Draco. She felt warm and sleepy and happy. She loved waking up warm, coldness had plagued Hermione her whole life. It seemed she could never escape from being cold. And she despised being cold.  
  
But right now she was warm, and her muscles felt relaxed instead of tensed. She opened her eyes slowly and lifted her head slightly off Draco's.... Draco's chest...  
  
Ok. In bed, curled around Draco Malfoy. Warm. Hermione sneezed.  
  
Ugh, she had forgotten. The previous night came back to her in a rush. It seemed like a dream. She had been so exhausted. Draco was still asleep... she should probably get up and leave while she could. But she was so warm... she went back to sleep.  
  
***  
  
Don stared out the window at the rain. He always felt so depressed when it rained. And it had been raining for two days straight now. He had been supposed to go to meet his girlfriend of the week, Jessie (a brunette from a bar) for brunch, but had slept through it. He sighed. So much for her. She was a pretty good shag, and she had nice legs. But oh well. He smiled slightly. Hermione would be coming home soon.  
  
His favourite.  
  
He jacked off in the shower thinking about her, her weakness. Her whimper when he hit her, her big brown eyes.  
  
He towelled off and got dressed, checking his watch. 4 o'clock. He'd grab a bit of food from the kitchen and then hit the pubs for another night of drinking, smoking and flirting in the seemingly endless chain.  
  
*** Harry and Ron waited in the common room for Hermione. They always went down to breakfast together, it was unusual that she was late. They sat around for ten minutes before they went down by themselves. It was probably good for her to sleep in anyway, poor thing. She'd had a rough few days.  
  
They ate breakfast hungrily, telling jokes through mouthfuls of pancake. When anyone asked them where Hermione was, they said she was sleeping in. Ginny joined them and the three went to the library to catch up on some homework.  
  
"Ugh, I wish Hermione was awake. This stuff is so confusing." Ron stared idly at his Transfiguration homework, tapping it with his pencil. Ginny looked up from her own homework, which Harry was helping her with, as he had done it last year.  
  
"Awake? I was just wondering where she was! I went into her room looking for her before I came down to breakfast... she wasn't in there."  
  
"Well where could she be? She didn't come home last night until after we were all asleep..." Ron dropped his pencil but didn't bother to pick it up.  
  
"Or maybe she didn't come home." Harry finished, standing up.  
  
"Well, she said not to worry." Ginny suggested.  
  
"Let's go see Dumbledore." Harry said, heading towards the door, his books forgotten.  
  
***  
  
Draco opened his eyes slowly and listened to the pitter-patter of the rain. He eased himself out of bed and stood, looking down at Hermione. She was still curled up peacefully, her cheeks flushed with sleep. He went to the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water, and rinsed out his mouth. He went back into the main room. There was an owl tapping at the window. He opened it and took the message from the owl, who promptly flew off.  
  
Draco and Hermione,  
  
Thank-you for telling me where you were, I would have worried. You are excused because of last night's emergency conditions, which made it impossible for you to return to school. I am only glad you were able to find rooms at the Inn. I hope you are both well and will expect you back at Hogwarts by this afternoon. Once again, thank-you for your consideration. Sincerely,  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
The clock ticked ten o'clock. Draco decided they'd better be on their way soon. He knelt next to the bed and shook Hermione's shoulder gently.  
  
"Hermione? Hermione, wake up." Hermione yawned and stretched, then opened her eyes. She watched him confusedly for a moment, sitting up. Her eyes were no longer clouded over with sleep. They changed in the snap of a finger into once again being frightened.  
  
"Thank-you for helping me last night." She said, climbing out of the bed on the side opposite him. He stood and turned, gathering his things up. He felt the insides of her boots, which were still over the heater.  
  
"Your boots are dry now." He said, offering them to her. She put them on and stomped into the bathroom. She unconsciously repeated his earlier action, splashing water over her face and then rinsing out her mouth. She dried her hands and pulled her hair, which was absolutely wild, into a makeshift ponytail. She looked at the faint bruises on her throat and decided no one would notice them. She didn't have concealer with her anyway. Draco stood in the doorway.  
  
"Are those from me?" He asked, noting the bruises. She nodded, meeting his eye in the mirror. She brushed past him into the room, straightening out her shopping bags, putting all the littler packages into the one big bag.  
  
"I'm sorry." Draco said, pulling her to her feet. She lifted the medallion from under her sweater.  
  
"Why?" She asked. She went back to straightening out the packages. "It's almost Christmas." She said quietly.  
  
"Yeah." Draco didn't know what to say. "You hungry?" Hermione nodded without looking up.  
  
"We can eat downstairs." He said. "Leave your stuff here for now." They went downstairs to the dining room and ordered breakfasts. They sat waiting in silence, until Hermione spoke again.  
  
"I don't want to go home. I'm scared." She said, staring at the table.  
  
"Come to the Manor. I'm sure father wouldn't mind, especially if he knew..." He trailed off.  
  
"That you owned me?" Hermione said helpfully.  
  
"Err... yeah. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."  
  
"I might ask my parents."  
  
Their breakfasts came and they ate quickly, got their packages and walked back to Hogwarts. It was still raining. Hermione sneezed repeatedly. They said goodbye in the great hall and went their separate ways.  
***  
  
Hermione attended lunch with Ron and Harry, but did not see Malfoy. A small carrier owl flew in halfway through the meal and all eyes watched as it dropped a letter into Hermione's plate of baked macaroni and cheese. Lunch deliveries were rare in comparison to the morning invasion. Hermione removed the letter carefully from her food and lay it on the seat next to her, until she could open it in privacy later.  
  
She opened it in her room, where she was reading a book about the evolution of Egyptian wizarding chants into modern rock music. Lavi and Pavi were out somewhere. She took it from inside her robes and looked at it. It was in a pale pink envelope, and from her parents. She took he letter from the envelope and read it.  
  
Dearest Hermione,  
  
we have some big news for you! Your father and I bought these lottery tickets from Mrs. Adams next door for charity, and then we won! We've won a romantic Christmas holiday for two in Marseilles, France! We wish you could come too, and we're sorry about the whole thing being at the same time as Christmas, but we will be home for the first day of your break, until 2. We really need this vacation. Don and you should have a good Christmastime together anyway! I'm sure you two will manage. Oh you're father needs help with some wisdom teeth... bye darling!  
  
Love,  
  
Mum xoxo  
  
Hermione stared dully at the letter for a few moments before throwing it carelessly onto the bed and going to the window.  
  
This was not going to be a good holiday. She couldn't go home and be alone with him... it would be constant. There would be no one to hide it from, he'd have complete rule over her. And there was no one to stop this. No one knew a reason to stop this.  
  
Except Draco.  
  
But he was just as bad as Don! Hermione thought of the night before, when he'd carried her inside, let her snuggle up beside him. She thought of all the times when he could've hurt her, and hadn't.  
  
He was the only one who knew. The only one who could protect her.  
  
***  
  
Hermione hurried down to supper with a mission. She barely touched her food, and watched Draco across the tables until she caught his eye. Instead of looking away like she usually did, she maintained eye contact. Draco raised an eyebrow at her inquiringly. She got up from her table and walked to the door, then looked pointedly back at him, and tilted her head towards the door. She then went into the hall and leaned against a wall, waiting. A few minutes later he appeared, looking around till he spotted her.  
  
"I need to talk to you. Not here. Somewhere private." She pointed towards a group of students who were looking at them and whispering. He glanced at them and then casually kissed her, grabbed her hand, and began dashing up the stairs.  
  
"Got to keep up reputations." He said simply when she tugged his hand. They walked through increasingly dark and gloomy halls of Hogwarts till they reached a door that was almost hidden in the shadow of a large statue. He opened it, looked around shadily, shoved Hermione inside and then followed, closing the door softly.  
  
Hermione looked around her and immediately tried to get past him. He blocked her way to the door.  
  
"Relax Hermione, I have this room to myself. My father payed extra so I didn't have to sleep with Crabbe and Goyle." He smiled luxuriously and looked around his large, green and silver decorated, private bedroom.  
  
"Draco, I'm not only in the Slytherin house, but I'm in a boy's bedroom. If someone came in, or saw me, or anything, I'd be expelled! This is against the rules in so many ways and..." Hermione paled and stopped talking as she heard footsteps outside. She dove under his bed just as Professor Snape poked his head around the doorway.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy! Talking to yourself again?" He asked, smiling condescendingly.  
  
"You know me, Professor Snape." Draco said good-naturedly.  
  
"I was just wondering if you had seen Millicent, she's missed supper, which is quite unusual you know..." Snape shook his head in wonderment.  
  
"That is very strange. Well, I wouldn't want to be a tattle-tale or anything... but you might want to check Crabbe's room..." Draco winked at the professor conspiratorially. Snape nodded his thanks and went on his way. Draco closed the door behind him and locked it.  
  
"You can come out now Hermione, it's safe. I've locked the door, and no one knows about that secret doorway, except perhaps Dumbledore, who doesn't generally pay me nighttime visits." Hermione did not appear. Draco looked under the bed and peered into two big brown eyes.  
  
"Draco, this is dangerous! Why did you take me in here?! You must be crazy!" Hermione held fast onto the leg of his bed when Draco tried to tug her out. "What if we get caught? Oh God!" She shuddered thinking about the possibilities.  
  
"Listen, even if we did get caught, the worst we would have would be a few detentions, Hermione. Didn't you have something to tell me?" He inquired, raising his brows. Hermione's face clouded over, and sobered, she crawled out from beneath his bed. They sat down side to side on top of it, and Hermione idly ran her hands over his green comforter.  
  
"I should've known you'd have a room all to yourself, Mr. I-Own-Half-the- Wizarding-World." She laughed slightly, shaking her head.  
  
"Excuse me, half?" He joked back. They had formed some sort of a truce over the last few days, since the Quidditch accident. They both knew how fragile it was.  
  
"Listen Draco." Hermione turned towards him, her small face solemn now. "This is serious. I really... I need your help." She looked at him anxiously. He couldn't help but smile.  
  
"Never thought I'd see the day when you'd ask me for help." Draco said, tweaking her chin.  
  
"No, listen to me!" She said, brushing his hand aside. "My parents are going away for the holidays."  
  
"Yeah so are mine. That's regular isn't it? I don't really remember the last time I spent Christmas with them, it's been-"  
  
"But Draco, that means I'll be left at home with Don. For a whole three weeks..." Hermione bit her lip, her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Draco's expression lost all hints of amusement.  
  
"You can't!" He said, standing up. "You can't stay alone with him, God... I mean..." He began to pace back and forth, rubbing his hands together in agitation.  
  
"The Weasley's aren't having anyone over this Christmas, as Bill is bringing home his wife and quadruplets, and I can't very well go to Harry's. No one knows about Don, other than you..." Hermione once again took to picking at his comforter.  
  
"Well come to the Manor then, that's all there is to it. My parents won't be there anyway." He said, sitting down next to her again.  
  
"But I don't think my parents would stand for it, me going to some stranger's...(especially a boy's) house." Hermione looked at him hopefully, as if it was up to him.  
  
"Well don't tell them then. When do they leave?"  
  
"The day after break begins, at 2."  
  
"I'll send a car round for you ok? At 3. Just wait on your doorstep. I'll have Henry pick you up and drive you to a portkey. Be there. Don't forget or anything." Hermione laughed weakly.  
  
"Forget? Ha." She scuffed her feet awkwardly. "Thanks Draco... I just can't... and no one knows..." She stuttered, blushing.  
  
"Well it's no trouble to me." He said, shrugging. He was watching her chew her lip. He really would've liked to kiss her, and they were in his room and all... but he knew that would just screw things up. Their friendship was very tentative right now. And he really wanted to get to know her. "You should probably get back to your common, the Wonder Boys'll be on the lookout for you." Hermione looked up, unaware that she had been subject to his musings.  
  
"Oh, ok. Thanks again." She said, making her way to the hidden doorway, and stepping out into the hall. She began to close the door and then popped her head in again. "Err, Draco, I don't really know the way back..." She smiled apologetically. He walked her to the hall leading to the Gryffindor house in silence, he seemed to be writing something in a notepad. They stopped and he ripped a page out of his notepad and handed it to her.  
  
"It's a map. In case you need me. It's ok to come, all right?" He said, looking her in the eye. She nodded.  
  
"Thanks Draco." She had the distinct feeling that he was going to kiss her again, but there was no one around to impress this time. He turned abruptly on his heel, as was his usual manner of leaving (unexpectedly), and then strode down the hall purposefully. Only after he was out of hearing distance did he mutter an expletive to himself.  
  
TBC  
  
*** 


	15. Moonlight Goddess

Terrifié  
  
Chapter Fifteen [Moonlight Goddess]  
  
Last Time:  
  
"Thanks Draco." She had the distinct feeling that he was going to kiss her again, but there was no one around to impress this time. He turned abruptly on his heel, as was his usual manner of leaving (unexpectedly), and then strode down the hall purposefully. Only after he was out of hearing distance did he mutter an expletive to himself.  
  
TBC  
***  
  
Hermione watched him until he was out of sight, then started towards Gryffindor. She had this lurking feeling that she had wanted him to kiss her. But she shook her head at herself and climbed through the portrait hole instead of running after him, dismissing the thought uneasily.  
  
She greeted Harry and Ron briefly before going off to bed.  
  
But once she had gotten into her pajamas and was curled under her own red comforter, the thought came crawling, sneaky, back into her mind. And try as she might, this time she could not dismiss it so easily. She closed her eyes and imagined his lips on hers, sighing happily. Lavi giggled in a dream and startled Hermione out of her own fantasy. She sat up in bed and wrung her hands. This kind of thinking was not good. She had never felt like this about anyone before. She had never wanted anyone to touch her. But they always did, they always were caught up in her evil ways. Draco was as evil as her, she knew how it would end if she drew him into her web. She needed him desperately to protect her, and that kind of relationship would only turn into him hurting her. She couldn't afford that.  
  
And she shouldn't want that kind of relationship anyway! Boys, and men, were bad news. She knew she should stay away from him, but that knowledge made her want him even more.  
  
Oh fuck. Hermione shivered and lay back down, burrowing under the covers. She was a whore, this was all her fault, and she deserved to go home for Christmas alone with Don.  
  
Hermione sneezed, and then cried herself to sleep.  
  
***  
  
Ron and Esmé sat quietly together in an empty corridor of Hogwarts, holding hands but not talking. Ron was thinking though. He knew it was a bad time, just as they were parting, but there was some things that they really needed to talk about.  
  
"Es. I need to talk to you." He broke the silence grimly. He watched as she raised her head from his shoulder and looked up at him, a slight smile on her lips.  
  
"Ok. What about?" She poked his arm playfully, before resting her head back on his shoulder.  
  
"I hate that our relationship is a secret. And. yeah." Ron, ever the eloquent one, looked at the ceiling in an attempt to avoid any eye contact Esmé might try and make, but she pulled his chin and turned his face towards her.  
  
"It's fun though, it's like a secret for just the two of us. Don't you like knowing something other people don't?" Normally Ron would back down, but this was important to him, and he saw the glint of concern deep in her pretty eyes. Esmé always made everything playful, that was just how she was. He knew her well enough that he could trust her to support him in this if she understood how important it was to him.  
  
"It would be, if it weren't for Harry and Hermione. They're my best friends, Esmé. I feel shitty being so happy and not sharing it with them, and not being able to bore them with detailed descriptions of how beautiful you are. I know it's hard for you to understand, but I'm really close to them. I mean, what about Hermione and Malfoy? They're having their "affair" and that all died down after a while didn't it. No one made such a big deal out of it. I could just tell them and make them swear not to tell anyone else! Please, I feel really horrible about this and I know it's hard for you too and." Esmé hushed Ron, smiling again now.  
  
"Ok! You can tell them. It will get out eventually anyway. It's not like I have any friends to be upset with me." She smirked, but Ron understood how alone she felt sometimes, even though she chose to distance herself from others and not the other way around.  
  
"I'm going to miss you over the holidays. No one to poke me and annoy me and talk in a little French accent." Ron grinned, suddenly picturing her in a French maid outfit.  
  
"Or kiss you?" She finished for him, pulling him closer.  
  
*** Ron told Harry and Hermione, and surprisingly was met by knowing grins.  
  
"We thought something like that was up. We had narrowed it down to a few Ravenclaws, and maybe, just maybe, Esmé." Harry nodded happily, approving of the match and proud of the fact that he and Mione had caught on. Hermione sat down next to Ron on the couch and cuddled into his side.  
  
"Aww! Our ickle Ronniekins is gwowing up to be a big boy!" She teased, pinching his cheek. Ron shoved her hand away in mock annoyance, growling at her threateningly, but he felt the weight lift off his chest.  
  
***  
  
Monday and Tuesday passed through in a blur of schoolwork, and Hermione did not think about anything other than school. She was thankful for the distraction. It was still raining outside, and everyone was worried that there would actually be a flood if it kept up. It had rained heavily for four days straight now. It was Wednesday morning, and there was no sign of it letting up anytime soon. Classes were cancelled that day so that students could pack up. The train left directly after the Christmas Feast.  
  
Hermione gave all the presents she had bought to her friends with careful instructions not to open them before Christmas. She noted vaguely Draco's present, wrapped nicely, sitting sadly alone in the bottom of her gift bag. She took it out, and barely hesitated before stuffing it in her suitcase. It was a stupid gift anyhow. She finished packing quickly, having finished most of it the night before, and headed to the library to start on some homework. She spent her remaining time before the feast there, finishing all of her holiday Transfiguration homework. Now she only had her (huge) Arithmancy assignment and half of her Potions assignment to do. And her partner Potions assignment with Draco... Snape was really loading them up this year. It was good she would be able to work directly with Draco on the project, she could get a head start. They, that is. Probably Draco's family would have an extensive library. Hermione swallowed. In comparison with staying alone with Don, going to the Manor seemed like a vacation at Club Med, but when she actually got down to thinking about it...  
  
Three weeks in the house of a powerful dark wizard who hated her, in the company of his son, whom she was also completely terrified of. At least Lucius and Narcissa wouldn't be there.  
  
But Draco would most definitely be there.  
  
***  
  
Draco wandered through the train aimlessly, poking his head into compartments in search of someone to torment. Crabbe and Goyle snored far too loudly and Pansy was irritating him with her prattle about Blaise Zabini's eyes and how hard his chest was when he hugged her. He really loved Pansy, but he did tire of her constant chatter occasionally. He tolerated Crabbe and Goyle because they didn't talk much, obeyed his every word, and had defended him before he'd been able to defend himself. Thankfully he could fight quite well now, but in first and second year it hadn't been so.  
  
He decided he was too tired too torment people anyway, and continued on to the last few compartments in the car, which seemed deserted. There were no lights in the last four. Maybe he'd lie down, his neck and shoulders were killing him. He carried all his tension there, and was always sore. Except for of course when he ordered his masseuse in... but that was only at home. He slid open the door of the compartment and stepped into the darkness, not bothering to turn on the light. He closed the door and turned, stretching. And then he saw her. He stopped with his arms in the air, back arched, mid stretch... and stared.  
  
A slice of moonlight illuminated her face and hair, making it seem strangely blue-tinted. In sleep Hermione's face was relaxed, not guarded and frightened as usual. A slight smile played on her lips. He had always thought of Hermione as a rather pretty girl, but he could never again think of her as pretty... she was the most beautiful goddess he had ever seen. Her long hair splayed over her robe, which she had bundled into a makeshift pillow. Her body was curled into a tiny ball, dressed in muggle clothing, jeans and a baggy red sweater. Draco's gaze drifted over her features. Everything about her was perfect in this moment. Her forehead and brows and cheekbones and her nose and even her freckles (Draco had never liked freckles before)... her lips were so beautiful, and he was in love with her chin. He was struck by the fact that he was looking at the beauty of her face, and not her body. Then he was struck by the fact that he was looking at her beauty at all. It was Granger for God's sake! He lowered his arms but continued staring at Hermione. How had he never noticed how gorgeous she was? The way she always hunched over her shoulders and hung her head, her hair hiding her from the world... she did it on purpose! Or maybe subconsciously. She didn't wear her beauty with pride. Draco had the strongest urge to shake her awake and tell her how amazing she was, how incredible. Hadn't anyone ever told her before? He knelt on the floor beside her, placing an elbow on the seat and putting his chin in his hand. He knew she would wake up and scream or something, but he couldn't draw himself away. He forgot about the ache in his shoulders and neck, he forgot that he was tired. All he could think about was his moonlight goddess.  
  
And then she did wake up. Her face changed and he knew she had. She frowned slightly and then opened her eyes, looking straight into his. She stared confusedly for a moment, and Draco's heart was pounding for some reason. He felt like his life depended on her reaction. And to his ever-lasting surprise... she smiled.  
  
"Hi," she said softly in a sleepy voice. She continued smiling gently, seeming uninclined to sit up.  
  
"Hi," He choked. The words were on the tip of his tongue but for some reason he didn't want to tell her, all of a sudden he was embarrassed by how beautiful she was. He wanted it to be his secret, if she knew she wouldn't have the time of day for someone like him. But still, he had to bite his tongue to keep sweet praises from spilling from his mouth.  
  
She closed her eyes again briefly, yawned, and then pushed herself into a sitting position. Draco got off the floor and sat on the bench across from her.  
  
Hermione felt a little disconcerted that Draco had been watching her sleep now that she thought about it. When she woke up it had felt oddly natural that he should be beside her, gazing at her in adoration. She must have been VERY tired... Draco Malfoy did not gaze at people in adoration, and if he did it was probably a bad sign. He was probably plotting something, and she had mistaken evil revelry for adoration. But still, she felt oddly oblivious to the potential danger of this situation. She felt warm and happy. She felt.  
  
Hermione flew off the seat as the train jolted to a rough halt. Draco smirked, and did not offer his hand. She helped herself up and looked out the window, drawing the curtain back. She searched the crowd, her heart pounding, until she saw them. Her parents, smiling and chatting with the Weasleys, and him. Soon as her eyes fell on his raven head she banged the curtains closed and sat back in the seat. Draco's smirk faded.  
  
"Is he out there?" He asked, his brow darkening as he drew back the curtains to look for himself. He spotted the Grangers and then saw the infamous uncle Don in flesh and blood for the first time. Hermione's cool hand rested on his neck and drew him away from the window.  
  
"Please don't do anything, he'll. he can't know." Hermione let her hand continue resting on his shoulder even when he turned to face her. Draco clenched his jaw and nodded.  
  
"Tomorrow at three Hermione. Bye." He bent and hugged her and then left the compartment quickly, hoping Henry had already gotten his bags.  
  
Hermione stared after him for only one wistful moment before she ran off to meet her parents. and Don.  
  
*TBC* 


	16. No

Terrifié

Chapter Sixteen No.

Last Time:

Hermione stared after him for only one wistful moment before she ran off to meet her parents… and Don.

TBC

"Bye!" Hermione called out to her friends for one last time from her position, semi-hiding behind her trunks and waiting for Ginny, Harry and Ron to leave before she met her parents. After they had all disappeared through the portal, she turned and caught her parent's eyes, waving her arm. The sight of Don's leer made her nauseous. Her family ran over, embracing her and bewildering her as they all chattered away at once. Don's hug was too long, too hard. She saw Draco's head disappearing into a carriage over Don's shoulder, and she prayed that everything would work out tomorrow. Before she knew it, she was being ushered into the family car and they were on the highway towards her house, a small brick house in a neighbourhood of small brick houses, with a tree in the front lawn and a picnic table in the back.

When they reached the house she went up to her room on the pretence of unpacking and getting reacquainted with all her old things and life while supper was being made. In truth she took out all the things she'd been transferring home from Hogwarts (her small dorm room was getting crowded) and then rammed everything else into the trunk and shrunk it to the size of a small hand valise. She had to be ready to go tomorrow.

Supper was easy enough; she made pleasant small talk with her family, Don included. It was so easy to pretend that nothing was different about them, that nothing happened behind closed doors. She had done this for so long. But recently, she'd started to feel that maybe it shouldn't happen. Maybe she didn't deserve it… well no, she did of course, she did something subconsciously that bedevilled men… she made them hurt her and use her. She was kin to Satan; there was no other explanation. Always she remembered the angry red face of the priest at the church she attended with her family, his booming voice telling of eternal fire and sin and the Devil. But still this change was slowly occurring, a wayward thought every now and then popping into her mind, an occasional impulse to fight, to run. She had no idea where it came from.

After supper they moved to the dining room and sat by the fireplace, admiring the tree, which was already decorated, and the bountiful amounts of presents underneath it. Hermione decided she would sneak down tonight and gather hers to take with her to Malfoy Manor with her… something to keep her heart focused on when she was lonely or sad or scared. Every time her eyes met Don, her breath quickened and she was gripped with the cold of fear. But she was blessed, because her mother invited to sleep with her for the night so they could catch up and have girl talk before she left for Marseilles. She saw Don look disappointed at this development. Hermione had never loved her mother more.

They stayed up late that night and Hermione told her mother all the news about Harry, Ron and Ginny and a little about Neville. Her mother was thrilled with the fact that Hermione had had a boyfriend at all. They finally fell asleep and woke when Hermione's father brought them breakfast in bed. They ate together, sitting on the bed like the old times, and Hermione felt more confident about her plan to go to Draco's for the Christmas holiday. While her parents finished packing she went to her room and wrote out a note to leave for Don.

_Uncle Don, _

_I've gone to spend the Christmas holidays with a friend from school. We're partners for a big school project. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Don't mention it to mom and dad, they already know. Have a merry Christmas!_

_Love,_

Hermione xoxoxo 

Hermione felt bad about lying to him, but she hoped he'd never find out. If he did, she'd have to suffer consequences.

She had a few hours to herself so she listened to music for a while and finished her arithmancy project before going downstairs. Don was making a quick lunch up for the family in the kitchen.

"Hi Hermione. Have a good sleep? I heard you and Miranda giggling last night." He smiled at her, carelessy putting together some ham sandwiches.

"Oh sorry, hope we didn't keep you up." Hermione sat at the table, and stared at it.

"Oh no no, I was feeling… restless anyway." Don laughed to himself, brushing his hand off on his button-up denim shirt, which was half-tucked in to a pair of tight blue jeans. "You got much homework to do this holiday?"

"Oh no. I had a few projects, but I just finished one. I've only one left to do, and half of another. Not too much." She nodded and anxiously drummed her fingers on the side of the table.

"That's our girl, always on top of everything! I bet you are getting real good grades." Don smiled as he continued with the sandwiches. Hermione's father strolled in.

"Yep, our Hermione's the best of everything, right baby?" He ruffled her hair affectionately as he walked by, getting the orange juice out of the fridge. He poured a glass and set it on the table before her, and then grabbed her gently by the chin. Hermione opened her mouth, knowing the routine. "Ahh! Teeth in perfect condition as always! That's the good tooth-brushing child I raised."

"I already checked last night, Gerry." Hermione's mother wandered into the room, wearing an outfit that was suited to the weather of France, not the drizzle and cold of Britain. "What time is it?"

"It is… 1:30!" Don proclaimed, smiling at everybody.

"Only half an hour before we go!" Miranda clapped her hands. "Gerry are you ready to go? You've everything you're taking packed? I'm ready!"

"I've got everything, love." Gerry sat down in a kitchen chair and smiled at his wife.

"Well then I guess we have something special for Hermione, don't we?" Miranda winked at Gerry as she pulled out a little gift wrapped in red and gold paper and handed it to Hermione. "It's just a little something, you know… We didn't want to miss you unwrapping all of your gifts! I hope you guys take some pictures on Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning."

"Mom, you didn't have to get me anything! Thank you so much! I hope you guys like your gifts too! Are you saving them for Christmas morning?"

"Yeah. But quickly, open your gift, we've got to get on the road!" Gerry urged Hermione.

Hermione carefully unwrapped a small dark green box, making sure not to rip any of the red and gold paper. Inside was a beautiful diamond and ruby necklace. Hermione gaped at it in astonishment.

"Well, do you like it?" Gerry asked nervously, glancing between Hermione and Miranda.

"Mum, Dad… I can't accept this!!! I mean… it's beautiful, I love it, but we can't afford this, what with Hogwarts and everything… I just am…"

"Darling, don't worry about the cost. We know how hard you work and we are so proud of you. You really deserve it, and we want to give it to you. And it's not just an ordinary… Muggle… necklace either!" Miranda smiled proudly. "We got it from a shop in that alley place. It's got magic in it!" Gerry nodded in affirmation.

"It has special powers so that you'll be happy whenever you put it on! We put our love into it… or something like that, at the shop so that you'll feel our love when you wear it. You can store love in each ruby or something like that, so maybe Ron and Harry and the others can use the other rubies or something!" Gerry smiled hopefully, waiting for Hermione's reaction.

"Guys, this is wonderful. It's the best present I've ever gotten, ever! Thank-you so much. I really love it. I'm happy already!" Hermione felt tears in her eyes and blinked to hold them back. It was a truly thoughtful, and beautiful present.

"Well, we should be on our way now!" Miranda said briskly. Gerry brought the bags out to the car and everyone piled in to drive to the airport.

* * *

Hermione sat in the front seat of the car, staring out the rain-streaked window at the bleak gray sky. She was so conscious of Don in the seat next to her, humming along with the radio as he drove, that it was almost painful. Now that her parents were gone, she felt so unsafe. All she could do was think to the moment she got in Draco's car and drove away. The car pulled into the driveway and Hermione started to get out. It was 2:40 and she didn't have much time to get ready.

"I guess I'll see you after work Don. Around suppertime? You only work the afternoon shift today right?" Hermione asked, feeling guilty at her lies. Don smiled at her.

"I'm not working today. I thought I'd take some time off and spend some time with you." Hermione's heart dropped into her Mary Jane shoes.

"What?! No… No don't do that. I'll be fine here on my own. I don't want to get you in trouble or anything!" She could hardly keep her voice from quavering.

"I already cleared it with my boss, don't worry." Don grinned at her as he pulled the key out of the ignition and got out of the car, slamming the door. They walked toward the house and entered, taking off their shoes and coats in silence. Hermione headed straight up the stairs to her room and Don didn't say anything, he was occupied in looking through the new mail.

She got into her room and shut the door, her heart pounding. What could she do??? She took her super-light trunk and brought it downstairs, laying it in the porch next to the door in case she had to leave quickly. She'd find a way to get out. Don smiled at her from the couch contentedly, over the top of the sports section of the newspaper. She smiled back half-heartedly and went into the kitchen to get a drink. She opened the fridge and had a moment of genius.

"Don!" She called, almost blissfully. "We don't have any milk left! Can you run to the store and get some please? I'm dying for some." Hermione poked her head around the corner of the kitchen and looked at him expectantly. Don was in such a good mood he agreed, pulling on his jacket and telling her he'd be back soon. He gave her a goodbye kiss that chilled her to the bone and left. Hermione looked at the clock. 2:50! She hastily packed all her Christmas presents up and placed the note to Don in a place where he would see it.

She looked out the window and saw an expensive black car idling in front of her house. Her heart leapt in joy. She grabbed her trunk and ran out. She tapped on the window and it rolled down.

"Miss Hermione?" Inquired the slightly elderly chauffeur behind the wheel. Hermione smiled in genuine relief.

"Yes." The chauffeur got out of the car and took her bag. It was going to work... it was really going to work…

In a burst of sudden pain Hermione felt a vise-like grip on her arm.

"Where are you going, 'Mione?" She turned and looked up at Don. The chauffeur paused, holding her trunk poised over the open boot of the car.

"I'm sorry Don, I should have mentioned it earlier. I'm just g-going to a friend's… we have t-to work on a sch- school project… together and…" She cringed as his grip on her tightened. The grocery bag was still in his other hand.

"Well that can wait can't it? Tonight I'm off work." He smiled tensely and let go of her so she stumbled backwards, then went and snatched the bag from the chauffeur, who seemed completely blank. Don patted him roughly on the back. "Thanks buddy. Tell Hermione's friend she's busy, ok? They can work on their project when they get back to that school." The chauffeur nodded briskly and Hermione watched helplessly as he got back into the car and drove away. Why didn't he help her?

She followed Don with dread and thankfully, a certain desperate numbness, into the house, where he threw down the groceries and her trunk. He read the note she had left him and ripped it into tiny pieces without a word. He removed his jacket and boots with his back to her, and finally turned to see her standing in the door way, still in her outdoor things. They gazed at each other.

"Well? Take off your stuff. You're not going." Don gestured to the door. "And close that goddamn door. Lock it." Hermione complied obediently as well as she could, Don watching her the whole time. When she was done she looked up and met his eyes. "I'm not spending this Christmas alone Hermione. We can have fun together like we always used to, okay?" Don looked at her, expecting her to nod. Hermione stared at the floor. He took a step closer. "Okay?" He prompted. But that odd new feeling was welling up inside of Hermione, and for some reason she couldn't hold it back…

"No." She said, raising her head to look Don in the eye with a clarity and strength he had never seen in her before.

TBC


	17. Repercussions

**Terrifié**

Chapter Seventeen Repercussions

Last Time:

"No." She said, raising her head to look Don in the eye with a clarity and strength he had never seen in her before.

TBC

* * *

"What do you mean she's not coming?" Draco repeated angrily, looking at the cool and composed face of Henry with intense rage. 

"Miss Hermione is spending the holiday with her Uncle and you will do the project with her when you go back to 'that school'." Henry repeated calmly.

"No! You stupid..." Draco shook Henry by the collar of his uniform but failed to evince a reaction and so took to pacing back and forth. "Well did she look upset? Or scared?"

"No sir, she seemed fine to me."

"Well damn her anyway!" Draco burst out. "You're dismissed Henry." Henry bowed and left the study, closing the door softly behind him. Draco waited till he was gone to kick the desk and resume his pacing. "Stupid girl. It's her fault in any case. See if I try and help her anyway, the dumb Mudblood." He dropped into a red velvet armchair and glared into the fire, wondering why his words were ringing false.

* * *

Hermione maintained eye contact as Don grew more and more red in the face. 

"What?" He asked tersely. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I mean no, I need to do this project and I…" Hermione never got a chance to finish her sentence since the blow to her cheek knocked her to the ground with a slight noise of surprise. She lay there for a minute, shocked, before she stood up again and faced Don. "I'm leaving." She said determinedly, and turned towards the door.

"The hell you are!" Don grabbed her by the hair and yanked so hard she sprawled backwards into him. "How dare you defy me you little bitch? All I've ever done is love you since you were a little child!"

"Loving people isn't hurting them, Don!" Hermione yelled, feeling angry. She had no idea where this resistance was coming from.

"Well that's your own goddamn fault isn't it Hermione! You're the one who tempts me. You're so goddamn insolent and sinful. You need to be punished, you know that! Do you even listen in church?" Don asked scornfully, letting go her hair and turning her to face him. At once Hermione remembered that she was, indeed a creature of sin, and that it was her who has hurting Don in reality, dragging him down into the fires of hell. Tears poured down her face.

"I'm sorry." She whimpered. Don's faced softened.

"I know, 'Mione. But you can't behave like that and expect to be treated well, now can you." Hermione shook her head shamefully. "Now are you going to try to leave again?"

"No." She whispered.

"That's my girl." He said softly, hugging her. As he did he let his hands fall down to grasp her bottom. "Now why don't we go upstairs?" He asked. Hermione said nothing. She knew she deserved this.

* * *

Hermione lay facing the wall. Don was downstairs making supper. She was so tired. Slowly she sat up and looked around the gray room, absentmindedly touching a finger to her bruised and painful cheek. Her clothing lay on the floor, so she gathered it and threw the ripped pieces out. Slowly she made her way to her own room and began to dress herself in something new, before she headed downstairs to sit in the living room with a book until supper. 

Don glanced up as she passed, smiling at her. She smiled back. She read for a while before he announced supper, then she went to the dining room. They were having microwave pasta.

"It's nothing much, but it tastes pretty good with salt and pepper." Don said casually.

"It's good." She ate silently.

"Well liven up a little, Hermione. It's Christmas for chrissakes!" Don playfully tugged her sleeve. "Well I've got a present for you." He got up, carelessly throwing their dishes into the sink and leading her into the living room and sitting her down. He ran upstairs and came down again quickly, holding a shopping bag. "Open it!" He said excitedly.

Hermione did, and inside were a few different scanty nightgowns from a lingerie shop. She smiled wanly.

"Thank-you."

"You don't like them?" He said.

"They're really nice, Uncle Don, thank-you." She tried again, and he smiled. He sat beside her and put his arm around her.

"You're a good girl." He said, resting his head on top of hers, turning on the television to watch some sports game. Hermione excused herself to the washroom. She went upstairs and took a shower, which slightly refreshed her. Afterwards she wandered into her room, and with little real hope, scrawled a note that said simply "Help me." She signed her name and gave it to an owl to bring to Draco. She couldn't rely on him, but still. She wasn't even sure if she should leave. This was her life after all. She shouldn't run away from it.

"Up to your old tricks, are you?" Don was really livid now. She was so tired she hadn't even noticed him standing behind her. She turned.

"Wh-what?" She stammered. Don's black eyes were so dead with rage that she actually shuddered in fear. His unusual calm unnerved her. He took her hand and led her to his bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaning on it. She sat on the bed and watched as he closed his eyes and looked down. She began to remove her clothing, and stood to take of her pants. She looked up to find him watching her, his eyes still so lifeless. When she had finished he walked towards her, and she closed her eyes, expecting his usual rough embrace. But instead she felt him lift her up. He flung her across the room into the wall. She screamed in pain… she knew she had broken a rib almost immediately.

"You stupid bitch! You just don't learn, do you???" He yelled, practically roaring. He stalked towards where she cowered on the floor. "Take off that necklace you always wear." He pointed to Draco's medallion.

"I can't.." she coughed, and was terrified when blood came up. He leaned down towards her. "Please Don… I'm really hurt, there's something wrong." He picked her up by her chain and dragged her to the hall, breathing hard.

"I can't believe the things you put me through!" He screamed, and she knew she was in trouble when she saw the expression on his face.

"Please…" She begged weakly. He threw her down the stairs.

Then everything went black.

* * *

Draco let the owl tapping on his window in, vaguely annoyed that it had woken him from his sleep. It was bloody 4 AM in the morning! He flicked his bedside lamp on and read the note. 

"Oh, now she needs my help! Well I'll be damned… I'm not helping her." He muttered to himself, shutting the window with a bang. He threw the note down disdainfully, getting back into his bed and turning out the light. He stared at his canopy restlessly for the next few hours before finally getting up and pulling a robe on over his boxers. He stormed into the dining room and rang the bell. The house elves scurried in sleepily, not being accustomed to Master being up so early, and prepared his breakfast of choice… two cups of black coffee and peanut buttered toast. Draco downed the coffee but could not find the appetite for the toast. He sat down with the paper and read it front to back.

When he was finished he stood and began pacing in front of the fire again. "Something wrong, Master Draco?" Henry asked, popping his head in at the request of the house elves, who were too frightened to check on their Master. He was in a very bad mood of late.

"No there's nothing bloody wrong you idiot! Can't a man pace in his own house without his damned chauffeur getting… concerned…" Draco glared at Henry, who merely raised his eyebrows and turned to go. "Wait!" Draco commanded.

"Yes sir?" Henry asked, turning back.

"Tell the elves to get my broom ready, I'm going to practice some flying techniques. They had better stop being so afraid of me soon, it's annoying as Merlin!" Henry nodded and left, and Draco went upstairs to get dressed suitably.

* * *

When Hermione finally opened her eyes, she closed them immediately afterward. The dull light shining through a small window was almost blindingly brilliant. She felt like there were stars dancing around her head. Her entire body ached, except for her head and rib cage. They didn't ache, they throbbed painfully. She was lying on a small cot that she vaguely remembered her family used when camping. That meant… she must be in the basement. She sighed and opened her eyes again. Yes, she was in the basement. And her hands were tied behind her back. She was somehow wearing one of the flimsy nightgowns Don had bought for her. She felt repulsed at the very thought of him as her memories came flooding back. There was a creak on the stairs and the subject of her thoughts came into view. He was grinning happily at her, which she thought odd until she caught the overwhelming smell that accompanied him… Don was smashed. 

"'Ow you feeling, love?!" He asked cheerily, crashing down on top of her painfully with a gleeful leer.

* * *

_The heady scent of roses filled the air as she walked through the beautiful garden. Hermione had not felt so at peace for a very long time. The medallion was gone from her neck, and Don seemed an indistinct nightmare of childhood. She was wearing a white empire waist knee-length sundress, the sleeves and waist trimmed with pale blue rosettes. She saw Draco in the distance and instead of recoiling or hiding, she ran happily into his open arms._

"_Oh Draco. My saviour!" She sighed into his chest as he kissed the top of her head. _

Hermione faded in and out of consciousness, and lost track of time. Don was not feeding her anything but water as part of her punishment. She was so woozy that she could hardly tell the difference between her dreams and reality. She dreamt of Draco as her saviour, her lover, and she dreamt of Draco morphing into Don and raping her. Her body was so weak from malnutrition and beating that the ropes were useless, and her wrists had shrunk so much that she slipped her hands out anyway. She begged Don for release, for food, for reprieve, for a blanket. It seemed like he was always saying that her punishment was "almost over". She had to try to get… away… but she was so tired…

* * *

"I'm just going to see her. To talk about the project." Draco nodded curtly to Henry to signify the end of the conversation and slid the separator between the driver's seat and the back of the car closed. It had been almost a week since he had received her note. He stared at the ceiling of the darkened car, thinking of Quidditch, of his parents, of school; of anything but Hermione. When the car pulled to the stop an hour later he was ill-prepared for the task at hand. "We're here already?" He asked his chauffeur. Henry nodded. Draco stepped out of the car and looked up at the normal-looking house in front of him. The windows were dark and there was no car in front. She may not even be home. But he still needed to talk to her about the project. He rang the doorbell a few times but when no one answered it, he simply opened the unlocked front door and strode in. "Hermione?"

* * *

Hermione heard the doorbell and her voice being called as through a haze. She miraculously managed to drag herself up over the basement stairs on her hands and knees and feebly begin trying to open the door. _Help me…_

_

* * *

_  
Draco tramped through the house, but found no Hermione. The entire place was a filthy mess, and it smelled disgusting. He could hardly believe Hermione had grown up in such a pigsty… or that anyone could be raised up out of such dirt. He poked his head into the kitchen and was about to leave when he heard a scratching noise. What now? He followed the noise to a door in the kitchen, to the right of the fridge. Pantry? He listened for a few seconds more. Yes, there was a definite scratching noise… but what could it be?

TBC


	18. Fever

Terrifié

Chapter Eighteen Fever

Last Time:

Draco tramped through the house, but found no Hermione. The entire place was a filthy mess, and it smelled disgusting. He could hardly believe Hermione had grown up in such a pigsty… or that anyone could be raised up out of such dirt. He poked his head into the kitchen and was about to leave when he heard a scratching noise. What now? He followed the noise to a door in the kitchen, to the right of the fridge. Pantry? He listened for a few seconds more. Yes, there was a definite scratching noise… but what could it be?

TBC

* * *

He undid the old fashioned sliding lock on the door and opened it. The creature that fell at his feet was such a shadow of a human being that he went completely numb in horror. Later he faintly remembered picking up the thing, carrying it out to the car with an inexplicable sense of urgency. Grabbing a mini-trunk from where it lay toppled in the porch. Driving away as another car screeched clumsily into the driveway of the Granger home. The hollow brown eyes of the creature looking at him for moment with a glint of realization, before going dead once again, staring blankly into nothing, and eventually closing. The sound of his name so soft on those cut, pale lips would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Draco…"

* * *

He sat in the shadow, his head buried in his hands. He was freezing, but he didn't do anything to warm himself up. The thought of the dried blood on Hermione's inner thighs sent a shudder through him. The bruises, and cuts all over her body…

She belonged with him. He thanked the gods that he had gone to retrieve her. Draco sat back in his chair, grimacing. He was frightened. Because he had feelings for Hermione. When he had seen her hurt like that, he had wanted to do horrible things in his rage and sorrow. He wanted to murder Don, and every person who had ever hurt her, and her parents for being blind, and bystanders on the street… he had never felt so out of control in his life.

Draco was a very controlled person. And all of a sudden it seemed clear to him that the only person who ever made him lose that control was Hermione. He wanted her, of course, but that seemed unimportant compared to his other feelings towards her. Yes she was infuriating, and that just made him love to argue. Yes she was emotional, that made him want to comfort her. Yes she was frightened, and that made him want to gain her trust.

He had done a lot of terrible things to her in the past. All the bickering, the name-calling, the practical jokes… that was the least. He had been manipulative, scaring her on purpose, going on power trips, even becoming violent with her… he had used her, confused her, _bought _her…

God, he was a prick.

And he still remembered his aim… to get to know Hermione. That was all he wanted, surely, and then he could let her go. He wanted to help her too. And he saw very clearly in retrospect that he had been doing exactly this opposite.

But from now on, things were going to be different.

* * *

Don woke up with a splitting headache, a painful reminder that he had been drinking too much last night. And then all of a sudden he remembered. He had come home and Hermione had been gone. His hostage, his lover, his Hermione. Gone, just like that. He knew she couldn't have escaped on her own; she had been so weak when he had left her. The door had been locked from outside and there were no signs of her breaking out. Someone had let her out. He had better keep a low profile… if this got to police, he could be in big trouble. He sighed and turned over in his messy, dirty bed.

He missed her already.

* * *

"I'm sorry Master Draco, I think it best for you not to see her right now. She is delicate and feverish. It seems she may be delirious. She was very close to death you know. The starvation has led to deterioration of her cardiac muscle that will never be repaired. Her heart is very weak. She is well enough hydrated, but we have to increase her amounts of food slowly, otherwise her body could go into shock. She has also lost a lot of blood. Her wounds do not seem very serious, a few broken ribs, a broken wrist, and cuts and lashes on her body and back. It seems she was whipped… perhaps with a belt. No Master Draco you cannot see her. No. I'm sorry. Our gravest concern right now is the fever. We have to find a way to reach her. The bones have been healed of course, and most of her wounds are doing very well. But the fever and the hallucinations… Master Draco no! You must not go in… you must…"

* * *

She looked very small amidst the green and silver pillows piled on either side of her. At the moment she seemed to be reposing peacefully, her lashes long and dark on her pale cheeks. She was dressed in a pale pink nightgown of his mother's, which the family physician, Dr. Anna Wink, had deemed appropriate. The disgusting skimpy black and red lace and leather thing he had found her in was in the garbage and hopefully long gone now. Hermione stirred, and Draco sat down on the bed next to her, watching her hopefully. Her eyes opened blearily.

"Draco!" she said in light tones, smiling.

"Hermione, I'm so glad you…" He was cut off by Hermione.

"I watched you at quidditch and you were great. I can't believe you and Harry have finally made up, if only Ron would come round…" Hermione babbled on happily as Draco realized she was not looking at him, she was looking through him. Then all of a sudden she screamed.

"Don I… ahhh… I didn't mean anything. Please Uncle…. A drop of water, you're choking me… no no no no no no no… NO!

"He's coming to live with us? But mom, I like our family the way it is now! Uncle Don is.. I know he's having a hard time. Just for a few months?

"I can't open my eyes, I can't see, I can't see, let me out! Let me out!!!! Where are you? He's gone! Oh God.. the dark.. I hate the dark… help… help….

"I know, I'm so clumsy. Don't be stupid Ginny, I fell down. YES and hit my cheek! Just drop it okay?!

"I just need to get these chains off, I just need to get these chains off… thank you Uncle Don. Can I come upstairs? Where are you going? Come back!

"Draco hurts me, Don hurts me… he's hurting me, oww. I wish I could get away. Stop Draco Stop… he's so beautiful… please stop hurting me…

"I can hear it scurrying… I know you're down here. GO AWAY! Go away go away! I want you to leave! I don't like rats… AHH! It touched me.. UNCLE DON!

"Harry? Ron? Where are you? Walk me to the table… I know but.. but please?!

"It's not in my head! They keep watching me… let me out. Just for a few minutes can I come upstairs? Please? They're under my skin! Ooohhhhhhh take them off me please they are all creepy and crawly… they're eating me…

"I shouldn't feel like this! It's wrong, it's sinful. Why am I so evil… God help me. I must belong to the devil. I wish the priests could save me, but even they fall under my curse. I shouldn't feel like this. I like him so much… he…

"He came to me while you were gone! The devil! He was on fire and he made me on fire too! But he can't get me upstairs. Let me out… don't go… take me with you… I'll be good I'm a good girl I'm a good girl I'M A GOOD GIRL!!!"

"WAKE UP HERMIONE!" Draco couldn't bear anymore of the terror and desperation that Hermione was remembering in her fever. He shook her wildly, but she simply laughed. Her eyes began to droop. "Granger! Granger?" He spoke hopelessly as she fell back into a seemingly peaceful sleep. He laid his head next to hers, astonished to find a tear leaking from his eye… he never cried. Her hand was grasped tightly in his. Why couldn't he help her? He sat up with a start at the sound of the movement in the room. He turned to face Dr. Wink, looking at him sympathetically.

"I'm sorry Master Draco. She's very ill. I know it's hard."

"You don't understand! What's wrong with you? Why can't you help her? We're not Muggles are we? Wake her up! You don't understand…" Draco gestured towards the sleeping girl helplessly. Dr. Wink frowned.

"The fever is very strong, but we must let it run its course. As horrible as her delusions seem to be, she will have to suffer for now. If we rouse her, especially using magic, it could cause her to be… to suffer from this affliction for the rest of her life… even after the fever has left. Do you understand what…"

"Of course I can understand what you mean, I'm not stupid!" Draco struck the bedpost angrily.

"Healing with magic is very delicate. We must not overwhelm the body. There can't be too much magic in the body, it has to remain attached to the physical world.

"But isn't there anything you can do to relieve her?" Draco asked weakly.

"Right now she has her broken bones healed, her cuts are healing, and she does not feel any pain. This is the best we can do right now." Dr. Wink nodded to him and left the room before he could question her anymore. Draco fell helplessly back on the bed. He watched her sleep until he had lulled himself into a similar state.

TBC


	19. A Normal Confused Male Very Late At Nigh...

**Terrifié**

Chapter Nineteen A Normal Confused Male Very Late At Night

Last Time:

"Right now she has her broken bones healed, her cuts are healing, and she does not feel any pain. This is the best we can do right now." Dr. Wink nodded to him and left the room before he could question her anymore. Draco fell helplessly back on the bed. He watched her sleep until he had lulled himself into a similar state.

TBC

* * *

"Hi." She whispered softly. Draco opened his eyes and peered at Hermione.

"Do you understand what I am saying?" Draco asked blearily. He had been at her side for the past 2 days, and knew by now not to expect sanity from Hermione's mutterings. Her physical health was steadily progressing forward, but her mental state had remained the same.

"Yes." She smiled weakly. "You saved me, thank you." Draco peered suspiciously at her.

"Who am I?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"Where are we?"

"In a bed. And judging by the colours it's either in Malfoy Manor or Snape's house…"

"Malfoy Manor… you're really talking to me!" Draco smiled as he gazed at her, a little shocked and a little dazed from his awakening.

"Thank you. I didn't think you would come for me."

"I thought you didn't want to come here… I thought you wanted to stay with Don. I just came to... I'm so happy I found you. You almost died Hermione." He shook his head, and a shadow passed across her gaunt face.

"Where is he?" She asked, knowing Draco would understand whom she meant.

"I don't know. He wasn't there when I came for you."

"I hope he's okay…" She turned onto her back, looking worried. Draco sat up and stared down at her.

"I hope he's rotting in a shallow grave! You didn't "almost die" Hermione, you were almost _murdered_! BY HIM!"

"He didn't mean it. He was only doing it for my own good." Hermione explained patiently.

"Your own good?" Draco asked incredulously, feeling her forehead… she must still be feverish.

"To punish me for my bad ways! To cure me of them."

"Hermione, you're an angel. You've never done anything wrong in your life, except maybe befriending those two dunces Harry and Ron."

"You must not understand. I'm evil. You must not go to church very often. I tempt men and destroy them because I am a creature of Satan."

"Who told you that?"

"Don. But I already knew myself. He was just trying…"

"Trying to manipulate you, Hermione. Playing a sick psychological game with you. He is responsible for all his own doings, and so is every other man on this planet. You have no power over them that is not imagined in their own heads. An eight-year-old girl doesn't willingly set out to seduce men. And if Satan does exist, he usually goes for people like Hitler and Voldemort when he wants to do his work on earth." Hermione watched him confusedly.

"Do you believe that?" She asked weakly, yawning as she peered at him in the semi-darkness.

"With all my heart." Draco said earnestly. She opened her mouth to say something, but was asleep before she managed it.

* * *

The convalescence was slow and painful. Dr. Wink insisted it was normal, but after another few days, Hermione was still not allowed to stir from bed. It was the 20th of December. They had to return to Hogwarts on January 3rd.

Hermione listened very carefully. Draco had gone out to play Quidditch and Dr. Wink was visiting another patient. She heard no footsteps. She flipped the covers back and planted her feet on the ground. She stood up, swaying unsteadily at the rush of blood to her head. Using the wall to support her, she made her way to the door and opened it. No one was outside, to her infinite luck. She made her way down the hall and opened the first door she saw. Thankfully, it was exactly what she was looking for… the library! Things were going very well. She made her way to the bookcase and managed to spot, in what she considered an Act of God, her favourite book.

"Hogwarts: A History!" She exclaimed, excitedly reaching for the book, only to discover it was out of her reach. She frowned and pulled a stool over to the shelf, clambering up on it and reaching for the book. She grabbed it and suddenly felt weak. She leaned against the bookshelf, opening the familiar tome and turning to the Gryffindor section. She heard a voice cleared behind her, and turned to meet Draco's calm face and his stormy grey eyes,

"What are you doing? You're supposed to be in bed!" He chided, distracted by her bare legs covered in red marks from evidently, a belt. Her short white nightgown left so many scars revealed. Without thinking, he reached out and traced the arc along the back of her calf. She gasped in surprise and let go of the shelf which had been supporting her, collapsing half on the stool, half in Draco's arms, with Hogwarts: A History on top.

"Sorry" she murmured, gazing up at him. He gazed back.

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED YOURSELF!" He stared down at her for a moment before he abruptly threw the book down, picked her up and carried her, kicking and slashing, back to her room, where he lay her on the bed with surprising gentleness, before storming hastily out before Hermione had a chance to inquire after his change in mood. The next time she attempted to venture outside her room she was met by the stern countenance of Henry, who dispassionately informed her it was his duty to ensure she did not leave her chamber.

Luckily, the next day, Dr. Wink proclaimed Hermione able to go out and about the Manor, though she must be kept inside for another few days. The doctor said that her "work here is finished, Mistress Hermione, take your vitamins, take care of the weather, and do not get into any more trouble with that man." It was best if she stay close to the Master Malfoy, Anna advised sagely, earning her a glare from her young and stubborn patient.

Hermione had not seen Draco since he had so unceremoniously left her the day before. But now she resolutely put on her slippers and robe, and tromped down the hallway, ignoring Henry's disapproving glower. She opened every door she passed, until she struck luck and peered into a room to meet Draco's surprised countenance. He was sitting on what presumably was his bed, wearing Quidditch robes and putting on his socks.

"Excuse me, have you never heard of knocking? What are you doing out of your room? Where is Henry?" Draco looked at her suspiciously. Hermione smiled smugly.

"Doctor's orders… I must get some exercise by walking around the Manor. And doing homework. We've got to get started on that project about Elsabeth Fedoso." Draco flushed red.

"Err, speaking of that, Hermione… the thing is, I… well since you were ill and all, I finished it without you…"

"WHAT?! DRACO! We're supposed to work together, and I want to see it, it's probably terrible…."

"Listen Hermione, I found out some things about Elsabeth, and I… I finished the project in any case. You've been sick. The matter is closed." He looked sternly at her. Hermione would have argued if she hadn't suddenly felt very sick. She turned away from him, stumbling a little and leaning on the wall outside his door. She doubled over, holding her knees. Draco was at her elbow in a second. "Are you alright?" He asked worriedly. She nodded impatiently, pushing him away as she straightened.

"I'm going downstairs." Hermione spoke shortly before she veered toward the stairs. Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed her elbow, determined to at least escort her down if she was so determined. It would do no good to have her fall down the curving marble staircase and break her pretty neck.

* * *

She ate dinner with him at the dining-room table that evening. Her trunk had finally been put in her room, and she was wearing her own clothing. She had not put much thought into her outfit, and wore simply black pants and a long baggy red sweater that had been her fathers. Before she had borrowed it. Or, in his words, 'made off with it like an unashamed thief in the broad daylight'.

Draco sat at the other end of the table, picking at the carbonara pasta and steamed broccoli, brooding into the fire, as seemed to be his favourite pastime of late.

"How's the sulking going?" Hermione asked, taking a sip of milk to wash down one of her numerous vitamin and mineral supplements.

"I'm not sulking." Draco said, pouting at her in the manner of a 5-year-old. She merely raised her eyebrows. "Hermione, what are you going to do about Don?" He asked, watching her closely.

"What do you mean?" Her voice was cold and her eyes closed.

"Well you can't just… act as if nothing has happened. You can't go back home while he's there."

"Well, that's what I intend, during spring break." Draco rolled his eyes and looked back into the fire. There was no point arguing with her when he couldn't get through the years of brainwashing.

* * *

Hermione awoke in a panic. She was used to the nightmares, but through some fault the house elves had let her light go out. Ever since she had been trapped in the basement she had a terrible fear of the dark. She sat up in the bed, looking around pointlessly. She couldn't see anything. She gathered the bedcovers around her, wondering what she could do. Immediately thought of Draco. Lately, whenever she was in trouble, or upset, he promptly came to mind. She admitted to herself that she had come to trust and depend on him. But since she arrived at the manor he had been unfailingly kind and helpful to her.

She heard a noise in the room. She was sure of it. There was something on the floor, making for the bed… for her. She could already imagine it's touch on her skin… it was all she could do to stifle her scream. She tried to steady her breathing, a tear leaking down her face as she heard more scuffling noises. She shuddered with revulsion at the thought of what might be lurking in the dark. She felt so alone, but she knew that there was something else with her… All of a sudden a light appeared as the door creaked open and a shock of silvery blonde hair appeared.

"Draco…?" She asked desperately. He peered at her in the darkness and came all the way into the room, flicking on the bedside lamp as he sat down next to her.

"What? Are you okay? What's wrong Hermione?" He put his arm around her comfortingly.

"I woke up and the light was out. I was so scared. I think that there's snakes, or rats in here." She looked up at him, biting her lip. Draco patiently checked the room for any intruders, but to her relief, found none.

"I'm glad I checked on you. You would have stayed up all night. I'll have a word with the house elves." Draco smiled reassuringly at her and put a hand on her shoulder, lightly pushing her backward so she lay on the bed, and then standing as he tucked the bedcovers around her. But as soon as he finished, she impatiently pulled her arms out again. Before he had a chance to protest, she had twined them around his neck and brought his face to hers for a gentle, passionate kiss. Draco was so surprised he responded for a moment before pulling away reluctantly and looking down at her furiously.

"Do you remember what I told you?!" He practically yelled, more angry with himself for his ready response that with her. "You are not to kiss me unless you want it! I really really… it bothers me and …" Draco struggled for words to convey his frustration. She was beautiful and she couldn't go on teasing him… but he knew she would not understand that. He glanced down at her and was irked to see her smiling. "I'm serious!" He said exasperatedly.

"Draco, I remembered what you said." She spoke softly. Draco glared at her for a moment, not quite understanding what she meant, but suddenly it dawned on him. His eyes widened and he stood up abruptly, striding to the other side of the room before he turned and regarded her again.

"Hermione…" He began uncertainly.

"I want you. You're the first person I've ever wanted. I… I know these feelings are wrong, but… I'm sorry." Hermione flushed and averted her eyes.

"Hermione! Those feelings aren't wrong. They're natural. You have no reason to be ashamed. But this… it's so soon after everything and everything is so messed up and you don't understand what you're doing… I'm not good for you, Hermione." Draco shook his head, sitting on the bed once again and meeting her eyes.

"Do you think I'm ugly?" She asked, biting her lip again. Draco watched it for a moment before he regained his senses.

"Ugly? You must be… You're beautiful. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I didn't think a human could be as beautiful as you." He said earnestly, lifting her chin and willing her to believe him. She raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah right, what about Cho and Angelina and Ginny and Pansy and Esmé and all the others?" She looked so forlorn and envious that Draco almost laughed.

"Hermione, trust me. Those girls are all very pretty." She sighed and her head drooped. "But you… are a goddess. That night we were on the train, I watched you sleep for so long… you're incredible. You're divine. Honestly. Cross my black Slytherin heart and hope to die." Hermione looked at him for a long time before nodding slightly, at least accepting his sincerity if not his words as facts. She dragged the last of the covers off her lap and made her way over to him, wearing a black tank top and Christmas pyjama pants. Before he knew what she was about, she had toppled him over and was tantalizingly close to his face.

It was very late at night. Or very early in the morning. He did not know what he was doing. He was confused, and what else would any normal male do if he found the girl he loved climbing on top of him.

That was his reasoning as he swiftly swivelled her on to her back and kissed her thoroughly. He was almost lost to his senses before he realized what he had just thought.

The girl he loved?

Loved?

The girl?

He loved?

Girl?

Hermione?

He loved Hermione?

Hermione, the girl he loved?

He sprung off the bed like a pop rocket and stumbled backward into the wall unattractively. Hermione sat up.

"What?" She said, grinning at him, her hair tousled.

_Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh SHIT!_

TBC


	20. Warm Things

1Terrifié

Chapter Twenty Warm Things

Last Time:

"What?" She said, grinning at him, her hair tousled.

_Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh SHIT!_

TBC

* * *

Draco lifted his head from his hands, took a slurp of his cold coffee, and let his head drop into its forlorn position once again. It was 8 in the morning, and he hadn't slept yet. What had happened with Hermione the night before kept running over and over in his head. UGH. The grey light filtering into his study from the half-closed shutters did not promise a bright day. A few splatters of rain began to fall and Draco groaned. No Quidditch today. No escaping Hermione today. After his unceremonious exit from her room last night, surely she would have questions… ones he was not prepared to answer, even to himself.

Hermione turned onto her right side and glared at the sliver of light shining at the edge of the curtains. She pulled her blankets up higher and closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the rain. She thought about the night she had sat in the astronomy tower window to watch the rain pour down, the night after her tears had saved Draco's life. Draco- she still hadn't properly thought about what had happened last night. What she had experienced then was the only real, tangible thing she had felt since… well, for a long time. The fact that it was with Draco, well that was a little surprising.

For months she had been building up to this, she now realized. Despite all his little cruelties, his insensitivities, his arrogance, Draco was a good person, and she knew that. And despite his, at times, callous treatment of her, she really did trust him at this point. In every important matter, he had proved that he had enough decency to be considered quite human. He even went beyond that on occasion, and she suspected he kept hidden a side of his heart quite different from what everyone saw.

But _what_ exactly did she see in him? What did she feel toward him? There are 4 parts to everything, she rationalised: intellectual, spiritual, physical, emotional. Intellectually she thought of Draco as an equal, he was smart, independent. And she even kind of liked him now; after all he had helped her get out of some pretty big messes. Spiritually… well, spirit is hard to analyze, especially in relation to other people. Physically she had to admit to herself she was attracted to him, and that was a new thing for her. Emotionally, well… emotionally, she was attracted to him as well. She felt good when she was with him. But how much of that was some kind of damsel-in-distress syndrome? Did she like him genuinely or did she like what he represented in her life- a hero? Because he had come into her life at such a dramatic point, it was hard to tell. She couldn't really separate the entwined emotions she felt for Draco and the ones she felt when she was safe from Don's grasp. Hermione closed her eyes, confused and unresolved. She was getting nowhere.

* * *

Don sat on the front step of the Granger home, his face buried in his hands to avoid the light that was torture to his headache. What a terrible bloody holiday season he was having! Looking back, maybe stuff had gotten a little out of hand with Hermione, but what would any other bloke do in the same situation? He hoped she was all right, wherever she was. If he filed a missing persons report, the Grangers would come home early and he would have to explain to them about everything, and… well he didn't want that. So he sat, and hoped she was alive and well somewhere, not at the bottom of a lake. It would be a real pity if someone murdered her; she was a lovely girl, after all. Don took a swig of beer, took one last look at the fading sun, and tramped inside the house.

* * *

The brisk knock at her door startled Hermione from the book she was reading.

"Yes?"

"May I come in?" Draco spoke from the other side of the door. Hermione had been expecting one of the house elves or Dr. Wink. She sat up in bed quickly, smoothing her hair and clothing.

"Yes." Draco swung the door open, to reveal himself standing in the doorway, hands behind his back, looking pointedly at his shoes. Hermione glanced at him before staring at her hands, blushing a little as she remembered the night before.

"Err. Right. So, I just came to see… if you'd like to go sledding with me. It's this muggle thing where you get on a bit of plastic and then you…"

"Draco, I know what sledding is. I'm muggle-born, remember?"

"Oh yes right. Right then. It's crazy really, I'll never understand them. But it was stupid to ask of course, so I guess I'll just go… make coffee or something. Tell me if you need anything. Okay. Bye." Draco spun on his heel, about to walk away when he heard Hermione.

"I'd love to go sledding with you Draco." Hermione stood, smiling at his rambling.

"Oh. Okay. Well get your warm things on then." He said, surprised, and still not meeting her eyes. "Meet you downstairs." And then he went off, presumably to get his "Warm things on". Hermione smiled, holding in laughter. Despite the embarrassment last night, she knew that her feelings for Draco were authentic, even if she didn't know exactly what they were, other than… _good.

* * *

_

"Sleigh bells ring

are you listening

in the lane

snow is glistening

A beautiful sight

we're happy tonight

walking in a winter wonderland"

Draco hummed the rest of the tune under his breath as he jauntily pulled on a pair of winter boots. He had dressed in Muggle clothing for this Muggle outing, wearing a pair of baggy black pants and a red sweater. He pulled on a black jacket, and red-and white scarf and mitts for good measure. He was beginning to feel the Christmas season very happily. Egg nog, presents, joy, singing, big sparkly trees, togetherness and lots of cookies… what more could a Slytherin ask for? He turned toward the staircase and yelled, "HERMIONE! COME ON!" before getting out his super fast super cool green sled. Aah, he was excited. He heard footsteps on the stair and turned, smiling, only to look into the calm face of his mother.

"Don't tell me you have a female visitor while we're away, Draco." She said, her voice like cool water on rocks, with a playfully scornful expression on her face.

"Mother! What are you doing home! I never expected… Father isn't with you is he?" Draco struggled to keep his voice even.

"No of course not dear, he's still at the villa. I just wanted to drop in and check on you. It is the holidays after all, are you sure you don't wish to join us? You could even bring whatever female friend it is you've holed yourself up with her, provided she isn't too… distasteful. Hermione… you know that name wrings a bell." Narcissa swanned about the room as she spoke, but paused as she turned a figurine over in her hand, trying to remember a Hermione… Draco jumped at the end of her sentence, hoping to distract her.

"Oh no, you don't know her! She's a friend going through a hard time, and I don't want to leave her alone, or subject her to father's scrutiny either. She needs to relax right now." He smiled cheerily, wishing she would move on. She looked at him suspiciously for a tense moment before she decided to let the matter go. Her son was old enough to consort with whomever he wished.

"Well, I guess there's not much reason for me to be here then, is there? I've left all your presents under the tree, and amazingly I had the foresight to buy a little something for a female companion. A mother's sense, you could call it. And a little help from the house elves." His mother smiled at him as she made her way towards him, arms outstretched. Draco nervously returned her hug. His mother's cool demeanour allowed her to hide her emotions the same way he usually could, granting her a dangerous unpredictability. He had no real idea of what she thought of him having a female guest, or even if she actually remembered whom Hermione was. Narcissa was smoke and mirrors, and the only person that could navigate them with ease was Lucius. His mother gave him a last squeeze before she turned to go. "Merry Christmas, Draco." She said offhandedly, not even glancing backwards as she glided off. Draco shook his head as he stood still, a little out of sorts after his mother's usual bewildering performance. Hermione appeared at the top of the stairs, smiling.

"How much of that did you hear?" Draco asked, looking up at her. She looked quite healthy, dressed in a vibrant emerald coat, jeans, and white hats and mitt. Her cheeks were flushed from heat, a charming effect, he thought.

"All the deep dark secrets of your family." She said, smiling. "Actually, just 'Merry Christmas, Draco'. Your mother is quite imposing though, isn't she?" She descended the stairs, still smiling at him. The surge of emotions he felt as she got closer surprised him.

"Yes… she definitely is. You've seen nothing. I hope you are never at the receiving end of her wrath." He smiled, holding his ground as she neared.

"Well, I might be, if she finds out about us. And the fact that I'm a muggle-born." Hermione veered off, sitting on the edge of a chair to pull on the bright red slouchy boots she had brought with her.

Draco's mind was reeling. _US? US! What us? There was an 'us'? He was an 'us' with Hermione?_ He almost started hyperventilating with the overwhelming confusion, but watching Hermione, he calmed himself. Her casuality told him that there was nothing planned or implied in her unwitting seduction of him. Not like the chess-like advances of the other girls he had been with. Maybe that was why he was losing his self-control slowly, inch by inch. Because what was growing between them was completely, undeniably, appealingly natural. He snapped out of his tantalizing reverie when Hermione cleared her throat, and he noticed she had been staring back at him for a few moments.

"Trance much? It just looked like you were staring right through me! Can you even see me? Hello, Hermione here!" She smiled and shook her head at his strange behaviour. Draco swallowed and smiled in return. She turned away and he muttered under his breath,

"Oh I can see you alright."

"Hmm?" Hermione said, not having heard what he said.

"Nothing. Let's go." Draco grabbed her mittened hand, the sled, and pulled her outside into the crisp evening air.

TBC

* * *

AN: I know it's short after such a long wait, but there will be more to come really shortly. It was a really long chapter so I had to split it somewhere, and this was the least cliffhanger-ish, most natural place for me to do it! Sorry. 


	21. Don't Say 'Bed'

**Terrifié**

Chapter Twenty-One Don't Say 'Bed'

_Last Time:_

Draco grabbed her mittened hand, the sled, and pulled her outside into the crisp evening air.

TBC

* * *

Half an hour later, they were sitting in the sled, at the top of a big hill somewhere on the Malfoy estate. The stars were bright and beautiful and they could see a small lake, it's waters magically unfrozen, glistening in the moonlight. The air was crisp and not too cold. They were both gazing out at the beautiful scenery, and the majestic Malfoy Manor, chimneys smoking and lights ablaze. They had finally resolved their fight over who got to sit in front by deciding to take turns… and Draco (by default of getting in the sled faster than Hermione could) was first. Draco maintained that he thought she'd be safer behind anyway.

"Ready?" He whispered, loving the magical silence of the winter night.

"Yes." Hermione replied, as he locked his elbows around her knees. With a yell he kicked off and then quickly drew his feet back inside the sled, as they picked up speed and zoomed down the hill, laughing. The sled slowly stopped and they sat for a moment, still laughing, before Draco attempted to get up, toppling Hermione out of the sled.

"Hey!" She cried as he looked down at her, sprawled out on the snow. She reached a hand out expectantly, and he played an old trick, pulling her halfway up before he let her drop back into the snow. "Jerk." She muttered, shaking her head to get the snow out of her hair, before using his pant leg to pull herself up. "You can pull the sled up the hill" She said, running lightly halfway up the hill before she stopped and suddenly sat down again. Draco, behind her with the sled, stopped and stared at her.

"What are you doing?" Hermione looked over her shoulder and winked at him.

"You'll see." She said conspiratorially, turning back to her mischief. Draco continued to the top of the hill and watched her finish piling the snow up, and then start towards him.

"A speed bump? Are you crazy? Do you know how fast we were just going? And it's not even! It's a shabby speed bump." She reached him as he finished his rant and he looked down at her, the top of her head below his chin on the slight incline.

"Are you frightened, Drakey? You can watch me go alone if you want. When we go inside I'll make you some hot choccy-wokky and put you straight to bed…" Hermione taunted, her bottom lip sticking out in a mocking pout. Draco's eyes narrowed as he suddenly grabbed her wrist and dragged her over to the sled.

"Get in," He demanded, and Hermione acquiesced, smiling.

"I'm in front this time Malfoy." Hermione grinned cheekily and Draco grumbled but climbed in. He couldn't really grumble over the fact that Hermione was basically sitting in his lap.

"Let's both kick off this time. I want to go really far." Hermione said, glancing around at the beautiful grounds. Draco nodded slightly and they both put their feet on the snow.

"Ready? On three. One… two… THREE!" They both pushed and withdrew their feet into the sleigh. They were quickly gaining momentum toward the ramp and Draco heard Hermione yell over the wind,

"Don't let go of me!" He tightened his grip on her waist. Their hearts were racing and their faces stung from the bitter wind racing past as the sleigh hit the ramp and then they were flying… it was incredible.

They were suspended in air for a moment in time, grasping each other, so far away from the earth, and everything. Alone with the stars and the cold air. It was at that precise moment that they bothrealized that they needed to be together, like this, for always. When time restarted and the sled hit the snow with a huge bump they were changed people. And when the sled bounced and turned them both on their faces in the snow, they were changed people in changed positions…

"Oooowwwww." Draco groaned, his eyes closed as he grimaced.

"You're… crushing… me" Came Hermione's muffled voice. Draco opened his eyes, and shifted his weight onto his elbows. Hermione lifted her face out of the snow and turned over, her face covered in the cold white fluff.

"How can you say OWW when you landed on ME? I'm the one who went straight into the cold hard ground with you on top and I'm in a considerable amount of pain here…" Draco silenced her rant with a mitt on her mouth. He wiped the snow from her face and grinned down at her.

"I told you it would be safer if I went in front, but you wouldn't listen to me. I didn't let go of you either. Although I have to say, things turned out quite well for me. I got a relatively soft landing and now I'm on top of you…" His eyes darkened and Hermione's smile faded as she gazed at him. His mitt moved under her head, supporting it as he leaned in for a kiss.

Their lips met with a burst of icy energy and once again Draco was reeling, falling throughthe endless tunnel of emotions that Hermione evoked in him. Hermione broke off the kiss abruptly and Draco pulled back, looking at her with disappointment that made her laugh softly.

"There are a few things we need to resolve. Number one, you're still crushing me. In addition, I'm freezing, soaking as all this snow beneath us has melted, and I'm also really low on sugar. If you'll remember what I said earlier, I think that maybe hot chocolate and bed would be a good idea." Draco rolled off of her and groaned.

"Hermione, don't say the word 'bed' around me. Ever." Hermione helped him to his feet and they went towards the manor, dragging the sleigh with them.

* * *

Inside they took off their outside things and immediately went towards the roaring fireplace. The house elves brought a silver tray of hot chocolate and placed it on a small table between two big, comfy chairs, which were moved up close to the fire. Draco caught Hermione's eyes and smiled.

"Choccy-wokky?" He offered wryly, gesturing to the tray. Hermione looked away, hoping her blush was disguised by the glow of the fire.

"There's still a problem we haven't solved." She said with an air of feigned humour. "I'm very wet. I was wondering… you don't mind if I peel off a few layers do you? I don't want to tramp all the way up to my freezing room before the elves get that fire going, but I don't want to get sick either. You should probably do the same." She looked nervously back at Draco. His mouth was slightly ajar. "Draco?" She prompted, and he shook his head slightly and swallowed, clearing his head. He managed to squeak out a feeble,

"Go ahead." Before he turned his back, granting her privacy as he followed her advice, peeling off his soaking pants, socks and sweater, and then standing in his boxers in front of the fire, using every ounce of his will power to not glance over his shoulder. He could hear the sounds of wet clothing hitting the floor not covered by the rug… Hermione's clothing was far away. Not on her body. _Deep breaths Draco, deep breaths._

"Are you okay?" Hermione's voice was startlingly close.

"Hmm?" Draco yelped in surprise.

"You're breathing really heavily. You're not going to get pneumonia are you?"

"Mm-mm... Nope." There was a long pause, and Draco could hear Hermione rubbing her hands together. He coughed. "Err, this is nice, good idea. My body's really hot. I mean… not like, as in, HOT. I mean, I'm not wet, and being next to the fire, the fire giving off warmth so I'm warm, and yeah not like… because I'm warm. High temperature." He finished lamely. When Hermione spoke again he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Draco, I'm wearing a camisole and underwear. It's not THAT big of a deal. You can turn around if you want." Draco spun at her words. She was wearing a pale pink lacy camisole and panties. He looked her up and down breathlessly before he spun back in the other direction. "I think I'll just… stay this way." Hermione laughed.

"Do you think my scars are scary?"

"What scars? … I didn't even notice any scars..." He glanced over his shoulder and picked out some faint marks on her skin. Her smooth, pale skin… Draco abruptly sat down in the chair. "What is this, the night of torture?" He quietly wailed. "Your scars aren't scary." He added as an afterthought. There was another long silence. "Could you pass me my hot chocolate?" He asked, reaching an arm behind him awkwardly. He heard her pick up the hot chocolate and waited expectantly. He jumped slightly when her fingertips landed on his wrist, and slowly trailed up his arm. He was practically quaking with nerves and the restraint. Normally he was never like this around girls! What was wrong with him? Of course, he normally didn't need to restrain himself around girls. And Hermione wasn't just any girl. _The girl he loved._

She appeared in front of him, smiling and holding the hot chocolate again her stomach. He tentatively reached out and took it, retreating back into his chair and taking a shaky sip. "Aren't you going to have some?" He said, hoping to get her away from him. There was only so much he could handle.

Instead of getting her own cup, she leaned over him and took a sip from the other side of his mug, then licked her lips. Draco's eyes widened to the sizes of saucers as she said softly, "thanks." He gulped.

"Hermione… are you… trying… to seduce me?" He choked out. Hermione smiled.

"Took you long enough to catch on." She said sliding into his lap. Her bare skin on his was too much for him to handle. "Ooh, what's this? Obviously one part of you did catch on…" She smiled. Draco was beginning to think he had asthma because he COULD NOT BREATHE.

"Ehm… Hermione. Maybe you should just… get up for a second. Ehm, I don't think that you… realize what you are doing… and if you are… then I don't know if you're ready for this… so soon after… everything." Every word pained him. _Why was he doing this to himself? WHY?_ Cried the little, self-centred Draco inside him. But he knew he had to deal with this delicately, because he wasn't that Draco anymore. He had more people than himself to care for, and the one he felt most commitedly responsible for was Hermione. Who was at the moment very close to his face.

"Draco. I'm not a rash person. I know that the way things were with Don is completely different from the way things are with you. And for some reason, when you contradict everything I've been told for years, when you tell me that I'm good, and beautiful, I believe you. _We_ are so completely different from _Don and I_, that I don't even associate what we're doing with him, and what he did, in any way. You make me feel so safe and happy. And I think… I'm starting to fall in love with you." Hermione's voice quavered and she looked at him with her large dark eyes.

"That's good. Because I think I'm already in love with you." They locked eyes for a minute before their lips met in a desperate, aching way. They became so close they were melting into each other. Hermione was sliding her hand slowly towards hisboxers when there was a sudden crash. Draco had dropped his mug of hot chocolate on the floor, causing it to shatter.

"The house elves will get it!" Hermione said frantically, something Draco had never thought he would hear from her. Before she could take him over again he spoke.

"I think we should take this upstairs…" Draco said, and Hermione nodded. He stood, shifting her into his arms. She let out a surprised laugh as he practically ran up the stairs, carrying her. "My room or yours?" He asked breathlessly at the top.

"Yours." She said, faintly remembering the black satin sheets with a smile. Draco fumbled the door open with a few angry curses and then kicked it closed behind him. The fire in his room was built up, thanks to the house elves. He gently laid Hermione on his bed.

"Hermione. There are a few things we need to discuss."

"Not now!" She said, reaching for him. He smiled at the role reversal.

"Don't worry, I'll make it short. First, this is going to be completely different from what you've experienced before. It may actually ruin you for all other men. I certainly hope it does anyway." He smiled cockily and she rolled her eyes, quelling her anticipation. "Second, this means a commitment. I want to be with you, but not in the same way I've been with other girls. I want to enjoy the benefits of a fully exclusive relationship with you. Because I'd go insane if another man even looked at you." He was pacing back and forth. This obviously meant a lot to him. And Hermione had expected and wanted this anyway. Still, she was flattered at his concern, and his protectiveness.

"Yes darling. Now get in the bed." She demanded.

"What did I tell you about saying bed around me?" He said, smiling at her.

"I'm not joking. Now." She said. Honestly, her nerves were getting quite frayed. Draco's smile widened as he climbed back onto the bed and looked down at her.

"Can't resist me can you?" He smirked. She pulled him down and kissed him eagerly as an answer. He pulled away once again, tantalizingly. "One last thing Granger." His face became completely serious as he traced her jaw. "I want you _completely _naked." And with that he ripped off the golden chain around her neck, flinging it into a corner of the room. She was no longer his possession- at least in that way. Hermione laughed delightedly and with renewed passion flung him over onto his back; leaning down to kiss him so hard he wouldn't interrupt her again for a long time- for the whole night…

TBC

* * *


	22. Satan is a Man

**Terrifié**

**Chapter Twenty-Two** Satan is a Man

AKA The Uninhibited Hermione

**Last Time:**

Hermione laughed delightedly and with renewed passion flung him over onto his back; leaning down to kiss him so hard he wouldn't interrupt her again for a long time- for the whole night…

**TBC (To Be Continued)**

* * *

Hermione stretched delightfully, relishing the pleasant soreness and the feel of the satin on her bare skin. Draco hadn't been lying last night… she fully expected she was ruined for all other men. But she was okay with that. Smiling, she reached out for Draco, to find he was gone. She opened her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows. The room was filled with sunlight, and looking toward the window she found Draco, sitting there watching her and smoking, with the glass slightly open to let out the smoke. 

"I didn't think you smoked." She said.

"I don't. Just post-coitally, kind of to celebrate, you know?" He grinned. "Last night was definitely worth celebration." Hermione flushed red, and flopped back into the pillows, unable to hold back her embarrassed smile. He put out his cigarette and came over to the bed with a long silver tray of breakfast for two. He climbed in next to her and unfolded the legs of the tray, which went on either side of them. "I was waiting till you woke. Breakfast is served." He smiled, as Hermione looked him in mock astonishment.

"Sir, you have astounding bedroom manners. If only you could lend some of that to your behavior outside of your bed." She teased.

"What did I tell you about saying bed?" Draco chided, leaning in for a kiss. She evaded him, grinning cheekily.

"Not now, I'm really hungry."

"Me too."

"For TOAST you dirty bugger." Seeing Draco's feigned hurt face, she consoled him; "I really worked up quite an appetite last night you know, love." He laughed and they both tucked into their breakfast.

* * *

Before either of them knew it, it was 5:00 PM on Christmas Eve, and they were sipping eggnog in front of the fire and gazing at the Christmas tree. They decided to go out for dinner, and parted to get ready. Hermione looked through her trunk, hoping she had something suitable. She decided to wear the necklace her parents had given her for Christmas, and clasped it on, still wearing only her underwear. Surveying herself in the mirror, she thought it would make a lovely outfit all on it's own. The tiny diamonds sparkled and the rubies glowed in a passionate, deep way she had never seen in a gem before; probably because of the love captured in them. As soon as she had it around her neck she had felt the tenderly comforting love of her parents wash over her. 

She finally found a dress at the bottom of her trunk that she had completely forgotten existed. It was a strapless black silk with a red flower on one hip, and red underskirts, which accented the rubies. She pulled on black ballet flats and decided against any jewellery apart from her necklace… it was definitely enough. Hermione swept her wavy hair behind her shoulders, pinning a bit from one side back with a plain black clip, to keep it out of her eyes, but otherwise leaving it long. She quickly applied some makeup: smoky eyes and red lipstick, and was gazing at her reflection anxiously in the mirror when she heard a knock on the door. She looked at it nervously and then back in the mirror, which winked at her in a sly manner and whistled.

_I look like a slut. _

The thought paralysed Hermione, deafening her to the second knock. Where had it come from? A hidden voice inside? Don? She was now glaring at herself in dismay and shame. The bodice of her dress was tight, hiding nothing, and her shoulders and arms were completely bare. The dress fell to just below her knees.

It was considerably less of her than Draco had seen the previous evening… Hermione cringed, biting her lip, but Draco's now impatient knocking finally broke into her mind, and she took one last look in the mirror before grabbing a black ballet-style wrap sweater and tying it around her quickly before running to the door.

She would think about this later.

* * *

Draco had never been more aware, or more proud of any girl on his arm than he was of Hermione tonight. Well, perhaps he had never really been aware or proud of any girl before at all. He didn't care for his many escorts, flings and girlfriends. But he cared for Hermione, deeply. When they entered the restaurant he had found himself glaring over the top of her head at anyone who looked at her. She looked absolutely amazing, but he could sense she didn't feel completely comfortable. He was determined not only to keep her to himself, but to protect that vulnerability in her that had been precisely what brought them together. 

Her vulnerability, his determination to exploit it- how ironic. She had changed him, without trying, without realizing, even now. His feelings towards her had evolved so drastically. She wasn't stupid, or worthless or below him- in fact, it was closer to the opposite. And Hermione represented so much to him- his feelings towards her had changed and that had changed his feelings about everyone, about everything.

He didn't feel like a little boy trapped in a young man's body anymore, he felt like a young man. The chill he had felt inside for as long as he could remember had been coaxed into warmth by her wide-eyed appeal. Perhaps only time could ease the bitterness he still nursed after his icy upbringing, but her heartfelt moral convictions and her love of justice had reversed his conscious perspective without him even noticing. How could someone so seemingly fragile have steel inside, like she did? How could someone, at times utterly ridiculous, be so wise? She paired her very ranting about Satan and seduction with a profound philosophy of generosity, equality and tolerance.

Draco Malfoy was very much in love.

* * *

Hermione ate quietly, listening to Draco's easy tones and occasionally contributing something of her own. His grey eyes collided again and again with her brown ones, filling her with a feeling she couldn't place, something that scared her. Something she wasn't ready for. 

Draco looked handsome in his black suit. He had taken off his jacket and was elegantly dishevelled in his white shirt and slightly crooked black tie. His black cuff links distracted her when he talked with his hands.

She explained her necklace to him; he seemed impressed that her parents had gotten her something magical. They talked about his family and the villa where the other two members currently were. The night dwindled between their fingers like sand, and before they knew it, they were walking outside, holding hands in the snowflakes.

They were in a small village-like area of town, and the cobblestone streets sounded beautiful with the bottoms of Hermione's shoes. She stepped ahead of Draco and did a spin under his arm, dragging her heels along as she listened to the rhythmic scrape. Her eyes shone as she turned again and again in the darkness, her face tilted upwards to the snow, her laugh a velvet melody in the night. He watched her at first with amusement, but as she repeated the movement his eyes became entirely serious as he devoured this rare glimpse of the uninhibited Hermione. If only she could be like this… _herself_… all the time. He wanted to kiss the snowflakes from her eyelashes.

They arrived home and Hermione let him kiss the snowflakes and the coolness from every inch of her, and attempted to share her earlier thoughts about the necklace making a lovely outfit. He agreed.

* * *

Christmas morning passed away in a decidedly more realistic manner than the dream that the Eve had been. They opened presents and threw wrapping at each other and revelled in the colour and the immediacy of each other. Draco loved his silver and emerald dragon pin and was quite eager to figure out how it worked, being a boy, and having the naturally accompanying love of gadgets. He spent half the morning recording their voices and playing them back until Hermione threatened to take it back. They both got many presents from their friends and family, including chocolates and sweets, robes, games, books, lingerie (to Hermione, love Gin), and some suspicious objects from the Knockturn area (to Draco, from Lucius and Narcissa), among other things. Draco gave Hermione a burgundy and gold diary, which matched his black and gold one. The diaries had been charmed to the effect of something like what Ginny had had with Tom Ridley, except they could only write to each other on the pages. 

"Just tap your wand on the page, say the password and write, and it will appear in my diary. Of course anything you write besides that, I won't be able to see. I wouldn't want to embarrass you out of writing how devilishly sexy I am or anything." Draco grinned as Hermione playfully swatted his head. He also gave her back the slave medallion that she had been enchanted with until recently. "It's doesn't have any power anymore, but if you don't want it anymore I understand. It does have some sentimental value to me however, seeing as it saved my life." They both recalled his fall from the Quidditch match. Hermione smiled and put it on immediately.

"Property of Draco Evan Malfoy." She whispered, looking down at the golden medallion and then back at him. He kissed her until an owl tapping furiously on the bay window of the Manor living room distracted them. Draco got up, muttering, and let it in, recognizing the black owl as his father's immediately. He read the parchment it offered, gave it a treat, and sent it back from whence it came.

He then handed the parchment to Hermione wordlessly.

_Draco, _

_Merry Christmas. I regret to inform you your unaccompanied presence is required immediately at the villa. This is a gravely serious matter regarding your welfare and your inheritance and if you do not come as asked, **now** and **alone**, you risk much. We wish for you to travel by floo, and will be courteously awaiting your advent. _

_Lucius_

_P.S. Narcissa wishes me to inform you that she misses you._

Hermione smiled up at him weakly, and Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I'll stay if you want." She shook her head vehemently.

"I'll be fine, just hurry back."

"I'm taking my diary, so write to me if you need something. I'll be back as soon as humanly possible, trust me." He grinned at her encouragingly, they hugged, and he went upstairs to leave through the office fire, after ordering the house elves to discreetly keep an eye on Miss Granger.

Hermione opened her last present, addressed to "Draco's companion", from Narcissa, and found a thick silver chain bracelet, ornamented with a black dagger charm that hung from beneath her wrist. Narcissa must have expected some one much more… _Slytherin_ than Hermione was. She put the bracelet away with some other presents and went off to her room.

* * *

The darkness pressed around her, unbroken by the candle she had given up lighting lately, secure in Draco's company each night. Not tonight. After her sudden awakening her eyes remained pointlessly open, staring into the blackness as if to make it wither at her glare. And suddenly she could see. Not ceilings and walls and paintings and beds, but herself, with Draco, with Don, everywhere, all around her. Images' speeding through the air like it was some reckless drunken highway. 

She saw herself in the dress, and she shut her eyes closed. But humiliation remained, pushing through with a toothy grin, accusing her with a malicious laugh. And now it raised it's shrill, bony voice; _whore, slut, Satan Satan Satan… _

The past few days without Draco had been hell. She knew he had to make a few stop on the way to his parents villa, but she was lonely, and weak, and sick. She was throwing up a lot, though neither she or the house elves could figure out why. She could barely eat at all, and was trapped in bed with only her thoughts- her painful, shameful thoughts.

The longing for Don surged through her like a sudden tempest: urgent, destructive and out of nowhere. He loved her, he understood. Here with Draco, she felt so much guilt. He raised her out of the dirt onto this magic pedestal, placing her to touch a star, coaxing her to stroke a moonbeam, but it was all she could do not to choke on the shame.

Hermione thought. And thought, and thought. And the more she thought, the more the arms of her past reached out to wrap around her ankles and wrists like vines, entrapping her, holding her back.

What did Draco really want with her? Everyone wanted something from her. Except for her parents, and Harry and Ron, everyone was out to use her. Her intelligence, her body. Draco- did he merely want her because she had fallen into his bed? Because she was weak? She didn't feel like that when she was with him, but now that he was gone, all her insecurities were creeping back. Was she becoming a kept woman, a bedroom companion to be used and discarded? She didn't trust her own judgement; in fact she trusted it so little she sometimes feared she was going insane. Like right now, as she sat in her bed, the cold light of dawn flashing with images of the men in her life.

Men.

How she hated them, yet loved them. She craved them, she craved love and romance, she craved their strength and protection. Yet she hated their power, their greed, their violence. The way they picked her to be their toy. The way they used her body to make them feel more powerful.

Rape wasn't a sexual act, really. It was something a man did to make him feel in control over a woman- the same thing with physical abuse. Physical extensions of a warped mind. But what she feared more than being beaten, than being raped, was being under someone else's power mentally. Don had taken her there before, into his mind, into his heaven-and-hell-and-fire-and-brimstone, add one part torture. And Draco had rescued her, at least mentally. But had she jumped from the frying pan into the fire?

_Fire._ That was what being with Draco was like. She felt alive, she felt emotions other than fear and shame, she felt joy and… love. She loved him like she had never loved another man, like she had never loved even Don, although as a child she had believed him to be her "boyfriend"- what other explanation could an eight-year-old devise? But the fire that she felt with Draco… yes, she was in love with him. And that was more dangerous than any punishment Don could mete out. He had power over her, over her very soul. And she knew Draco did not have the most honourable past. He had never given her a reason to trust him. He could be cruel, abusive. He could hurt her like no other had, with his words, with a mere look- he'd done it before. He used girls- she had seen it, the tearful glances at suppertime, his wintry power to ignore them. He _toyed_ with people.

She was more than a toy. She was… a person.

A person. Hermione pulled the blankets around her. Even if Satan had cursed her, even if she was evil, Satan was a _man_. People owned themselves, they had their own power, they could resist Satan, temptation. She wasn't a pawn, she was a person.

The light had seeped into the room without her noticing; the deep night had passed. With newfound resolution, Hermione packed her bag and marched straight into the past, ready to face her demons… her demon.

* * *

Draco was thrilled. He had this odd feeling in his cheeks, which forced him to smile perpetually until his face was quite sore- but he didn't really care. Draco loved winning. And as of now, he felt very victorious. He had left his parents villa by broom rather than floo, just aching to feel the wind rushing by him as he soared back to his Hermione. Nothing could feel more right than being in the air. He was going to tell her what he had realized on Christmas Eve- that he loved her. And if she doubted it, he would tell her what he had just done. 

He had told Lucius and Narcissa about her. About how he loved her, about how she was a Gryffindor, a Muggleborn, the best friend of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. About how intelligent and brave and just and beautiful and lovely she was. And again, about how he loved her.

Of course, a fight had ensued. The issue of blood, house, peers- everything he loved best about her was somehow a problem for Lucius. Narcissa sat coolly to the side. Finally after the two men had spent themselves yelling, cursing and threatening, she stood, startling them both. She rarely got involved in their fights.

"His downfall or his wings to power, it is Draco's choice if he wishes to honour this… Hermione. He is a man now Lucius, to threaten him or take his inheritance away is to lose him. He doesn't need us. But we need him, we need his children. We need heirs." Her cold, melodic voice had an unfamiliar finality in it, it seemed less dreamy than ever. Lucius sighed and took a swig of brandy from a crystal decanter, leaning back against the fireplace. Draco's eyebrows shot up and he seemed to be thinking furiously- was this some kind of ploy? He was about to ask that when Narcissa continued. "However," and now she turned to him, "I will not have you… soiling our name, either. If you carry on with this girl the rumours will be damaging to us. If you wish to keep her in your life you will marry her, Draco. Under the Malfoy name no one will dare to insult her, and if they do… your father and I will be obliged to… _protect_ our daughter-in-law." Draco shivered, almost scared by the authority in his mother's voice, authority she usually kept inside of her like a coiled snake, waiting for Lucius to get out of line, waiting for Draco to defy her. Lucius sputtered and stood upright.

"Narcissa, kindly answer me; do you actually think it better Draco is tied to this… _vermin_ for the rest of his life, than allowed to wear their love out- I doubt it will last longer than a few weeks." At this he sneered at Draco. "It is merely a schoolboy fascination, he is just rebelling, he doesn't actually love-"

"Father!"

"Lucius!" Narcissa and Draco spoke at the same time, and then the blonde woman continued. "You old fool. Our son is not an unruly teenager anymore. He is a man; can you not see what is before your eyes? Draco will not let go of this woman. He has emotion for her that he has for nothing else, not us, or his friends, or any other girl. He will not let go." Narcissa glared at her husband until he, glancing at the steely set of Draco's jaw, nodded his head, acquiescing. Narcissa spun to face her son. "You. Do you marry her, or do you lose her?" She asked briskly, knowing the answer. Draco thought to fight, to say he was too young- but he knew that he would be marrying Hermione anyway, even if he had planned on waiting a few years. But what was the point of waiting? His mother's plan made sense, he should protect Hermione, and what better to use than his well-respected name?

"Marry her." He answered clearly. Lucius scoffed, but kept any remarks to himself. Narcissa smiled then, brilliantly, and went to Draco, kissing him on the cheeks.

"I fear for you, marrying a Mudblood, and one who consorts with Harry Potter and the Weasleys. But I like the girl. If you will do this, do it now, before I change my mind." She whispered in his ear, not wishing to further incite Lucius by reminding him of Hermione's "faults".

Draco nodded briskly, and left on his broom. As soon as he was in the air he had laughed, doing a few tricks, and now here he was, almost to Malfoy Manor, ready to assault Hermione, armed with his love, his parents' defeat, and an offer of his name, his life.

* * *

She stood outside the door, pushing her sudden thoughts of Draco out of her mind. She was here, at her home. Her parents were still gone, and _he_ was inside. She could hear a loud laugh track from some sitcom; hear creaking as he moved around the kitchen and the living room. Don. 

She swallowed, and put her hand on the doorknob, staring at it's smallness on the large brass knob for a second. She remembered once, when no one was home, when he was too eager, and too drunk, Don had pushed her through the door, bruising her back badly where it had hit the doorknob. How old had she been? It took her a minute… ten, yes. She cleared her head, and opened the door slowly, stepping inside. She shut it behind her with a click, trapping herself in the house that had been her cage for so many years.

She could see the stairs- how many times had she been dragged up them by her hair, or her wrist, how many times thrown down them, trying to catch herself the whole way down, but never managing it? Countless. And there was the kitchen, filthy now and cluttered with beer and wine bottles. The chair Don had once hit her with, the counter he had once raped her on. Every time they were alone, anytime her parents were working, or away. The door that led to the basement, where she had been imprisoned for those weeks. Those dizzyingly horrifying weeks.

The laugh track sounded once again, and Hermione turned her ashen face to the living room, peeking out of the porch. And there he was. Sprawled on the couch, face flickering blue in the light of the television. He had shut all the light out of the house with curtains, despite the fact that it was morning now. Every part of the house held so many memories. Every _single thing_ in this house had been used as some kind of torture instrument against her, even the walls. Shoes, towel racks, the sink, lamps, desks, door handles- it all hurt when you were thrown at it, or had it thrown at you. For a moment, Hermione realized that it was a miracle she was alive at all.

The only reason she might not have been alive right now was sitting stupidly on the couch a few metres away, chuckling at the television. Hermione was overwhelmed by an urge to scream. Loudly, and for a very long time. She swallowed it, and strode into the room, satisfaction surging through her when Don looked up groggily, his dark brown eyes startled and wary.

* * *

She wasn't in the dining room having breakfast, she wasn't in the living room, and she wasn't reading in the library. She wasn't still asleep, cuddled in his bed. She wasn't in her bedroom, and neither were her things. 

Hermione wasn't anywhere to be found.

Draco's good mood was rapidly souring. Had there been an emergency? Why hadn't she left a note? And, more importantly, _WHERE WAS SHE? _

At first he was worried, concerned for her safety. But soon that worry was disguised with anger. He was, after all, still Draco Malfoy. No matter he was in love, no matter he was a good person at heart… he had a lot of rage.

He sat on the edge of the bed, scenarios running through his mind. _She didn't love him? After he had just fought for her? Did she run to the Weasleys? Harry? DON? Or was someone hurt, did something happen? And she couldn't be bothered to write him a note?_

Draco pulled back from the wall, finally realizing he had been punching it. He could already see the bruises forming on his knuckles, and a little trickle of blood coming from one.

"DAMNIT!"

* * *

"Damnit." He muttered softly. "You came back." Hermione could tell from the way he slurred his words that he was drunk. Very drunk. The entire house was littered with empty bottles, after all. Her parents were coming home to a not-so-pleasant surprise. She hoped they had enjoyed their holiday. 

She had come here with a purpose, she had been angry, determined. But now she was here, standing in front of _him_, looking into his confused and bleary eyes, and she couldn't think of anything to say. So she just stood there, staring, and he stared back.

After a while, he shook his head and rubbed his eyes, sitting up straight on the couch. He opened his mouth to say something, and Hermione realized that she really, really didn't want to hear anything he had to say.

"Why did you treat me like that?" She blurted out, surprising herself. She hadn't come here to ask questions, she had come here to accuse him… to _hurt_ him. He seemed as surprised as her.

"Awww, Hermione. I missed you. Where 'ave you been?" He said, blinking. He obviously had no idea what she was talking about. Hermione swallowed.

"Why did you beat me and rape me? I was only a child! Your _sister's_ child! How… How could you?" She had started out strongly, but her last words were only a whisper.

"You… you Satan. Bad girl. Make me do bad things." He said, struggling to make his words come out as his brain slowly began to work, trying to comprehend what she was asking. Hermione stared at him, shaking her head. He was completely wasted at half 8 in the morning. He was dressed in baggy sweatpants and a stained, disgusting white t-shirt. His hair was greasy and he had dark circles under his eyes. The house smelled of alcohol and sweat. It was pathetic. HE was pathetic. But still, still. Still, he held some strange power over her. Still, she was afraid. She knew he could grab her now, hurt her, drunk or not. But he didn't seem to be in an aggressive mood, he was still staring up at her, a curious expression on his face. She remembered that face, red and leering over her so many times, smiling as she cried out uselessly for help.

"I was only a child. You took away everything from me. Everything." She said haltingly, looking once again the wounded child. She turned and ran up the stairs to her bedroom, which was mercifully untouched, and was about to shut the door when she heard him.

Soft crying and broken muttering from downstairs.

* * *

He had questioned every bloody house elf in the Manor, and he had finally gotten an answer. He knew where she was. She had called a taxi outside the Manor gates- a taxi. One of the house elves had been pruning a hedge nearby and heard her say an address. 

So she had gone home.

And now what was he to do? He still had his pride, he was, after all, still Draco Malfoy. But he was in love, and he was a good person at heart. Soon his anger was overwhelmed by his concern for her safety.

Even if she had rejected him, even if she never wanted to see him again, no matter what she said, he wouldn't let that bastard uncle of hers kill her. He just had to go, and make sure she was safe.

And maybe, if he was bloody lucky, win her back.

TBC

* * *

AN: I found some pictures that will help you picture Hermione's outfit.

Since is screwy and irritating, I will put them in my profile.

Don't forget to review:D


	23. Destroy

**Terrifié**

_Chapter Twenty-Three_ Destroy

**Last Time:**

Even if she had rejected him, even if she never wanted to see him again, no matter what she said, he wouldn't let that bastard uncle of hers kill her. He just had to go, and make sure she was safe.

And maybe, if he was bloody lucky, win her back.

**TBC

* * *

**

He stood at the end of a walkway, staring up at the small suburban house he had seen once before. His pale eyes were cold, even in the light of the full moon. It had just struck midnight. Slowly, Draco cleared his head of the images of that one time. It seemed so long ago, yet it was ghastly clear in his mind. He ran a heavy hand over his face, straightened his sleeves, and putting his hands in his pockets, walked up to the door.

He opened it, and stepped quietly in, looking around before shutting it behind him. He cracked his knuckles (a nervous habit… his _only_ nervous habit), before looking into the house. He raised an eyebrow at the disgusting mess, and then his eyes finally found the lightly snoring figure that he assumed was Don, sprawled on the couch in front of a… tevelision? His jaw immediately clenched at his first glimpse of the man who had… _terrorized_ Hermione for most of her life.

He wanted to pulverize the excuse for a human being… he wanted to…

Help Hermione.

"Inner calm, Draco. Priorities. Find Hermione now, beat Don up later." He was muttering to himself, but he had to calm down. Taking a deep breath, Draco walked into the kitchen, not bothering to creep as Don was obviously very drunk. He walked straight to the basement door, took a deep breath, and opened it, going down into the basement quickly. With a flick of the lights, he finally began to breathe again. She wasn't here.

He jogged up the stairs, shutting the dreaded door once more. A quick scan of the lower level, and then he was going upstairs. He opened the first door nearest to the stairs, and found an empty bathroom. The next, a large, neatly made bedroom- her parents. The next, Don's room, a reeking mess. And this door must be _hers_. Especially since it had HERMIONE painted on a wooden apple hanging from it. _Right_… he wasn't thinking clearly.

Draco faced the door, and opened it quietly, not knowing what to expect. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw her, sleeping peacefully, his moonlight goddess once again. Her even breathing and unmarred face gave him hope she was unharmed, but her eyes were red, he noted as he crept closer. He knelt by the bed, looking at her beautiful face with concern. She had cried herself to sleep. If that bastard-

"Hi." Her eyes were open, those dark brown eyes he loved, and a confused smile on her lips. "What are you doing here?" She asked softly. He suddenly recovered from the shock of seeing her and was hit with an overwhelming relief. He made a small strangled noise in the back of his throat and grabbed her, pulling her to him so tightly she was nearly crushed as he scrambled to sit on the bed. She laughed nervously, and then whispered "Oww." He pulled back, gazing at her face.

"Thank God you're safe. I was so worried, I thought… you left without leaving a note or… why did you leave?" Draco's brow furrowed. Wait a second, he was _angry_.

Hermione took a deep breath. All of a sudden she remembered exactly why she had fled the Manor, came home and locked herself in her room for an entire day without food or water, and cried herself to sleep.

She didn't want Draco to toy with her, to hurt her. Even if right now all she wanted to do was hold him and have him take her away and protect her. She swallowed.

"I… I can't be with you anymore Draco." She said shakily, looking at her hands folded in her lap. Draco blinked, and stood abruptly from the bed.

"What?" He looked at her, and she finally lifted her eyes.

"I… I can't be with you." She said, knowing he wanted an explanation but not wanting to explain.

"Why the hell not! Do you know what I've just done? Convinced MY PARENTS, the most tyrannical, prejudiced snobs in the history of purebloods, to let me be with you! And it wasn't BLOODY EASY! But I did it, yes, I did it because I-"

"Who the fuck are you?"

There was a moment of dead silence. Draco closed his eyes, clenched his jaw and swallowed, his eyes still on Hermione. She bit her lip nervously. And there was another lurching step, through her doorway.

"I said, who the fuck are you?" Draco spun on heel, glaring at the filthy dark-haired man in front of him.

"Draco Malfoy. And you must be Don." He said tightly, introducing himself with his hands folded behind his back, an insult Don was probably too- ill mannered- to recognize.

"Get the fuck out of my house then, and away from my niece. Bloody fuckin' creep. How'd you even get in!" Don wiped his eyes agitatedly, obviously having been woken by Draco's yelling.

"Your niece knows me, and I came to see her. So if you don't mind…" Draco raised an eyebrow, hoping this would end sans confrontation, for Hermione's sake.

"No, I do mind! I don't like people talkin' to her! Especially not the likes of you, I don't like your looks. Now get out or I'll make you." Don spoke roughly, lowering his head in a bull-like manner. Draco's eyebrows shot up a little further before he turned to Hermione.

"Hermione, come with me." He said, holding out a hand. She looked at it and shook her head. He laughed tightly. "I _insist_."

"No. I'm staying here till school starts." Hermione said softly, still refusing to look at him. Draco was still trying to figure out how to make her leave without throwing her over his shoulder or starting a fight with Don when he was shoved roughly from behind. He stumbled a few feet, and then turned to face Don.

"Need something?" He asked, cracking his knuckles.

"I need _you _to _leave_." Don pushed him again twice as he spoke, and Draco's eyes hardened.

"I'm not _ready._ Please refrain from touching me." He said through his teeth.

"Wha', like this?" Don sneered, pushing Draco's shoulder once more. Except for this time Draco's hand shot up and grabbed his wrist, yanking it and then placing his other hand on Don's neck threateningly. He didn't have time to speak before Don's other hand flew up and delivered him a glancing blow to the cheek. He swore and drove his fist into Don's stomach, letting go of the man as he stumbled back. Vaguely, he thought Hermione was saying something…

but the world was red.

* * *

She yelled at them. Cursed at them. But for some reason, neither Don nor Draco could hear Hermione. Draco was pummelling Don's stomach as her drunken Uncle laughed hysterically between howls of pain. She had to do something. She finally made her legs work, and stood from the bed, grabbing Draco's shoulders with all her strength. His motions stopped immediately at her touch, and he turned to look at her. There eyes met for a moment with a shock of electricity, an exchange of hope, longing and denial that exploded in the one second glance, before Draco grimaced in pain and flew to the ground, Don standing triumphantly over him, his strong fist in the air. Hermione crouched next to Draco, who was lying with his eyes closed, a hand to his face as he groaned softly. She would've spoken, but Don grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her to the bed, saying roughly,

"Stay where you belong." She could only watch as he returned to Draco, who was know kneeling on all fours, having opened his eyes at Don's words to Hermione. Before he could rise to his feet, Don had kicked him in the ribs and sent him thudding back to the ground. This time he didn't hesitate before jumping to his feet with surprising agility, popping into Don's bleary vision briefly before he delivered a punch to the man's face and then slammed his elbow into his side.

"Stop, stop!" Hermione cried, but it was an exercise in futility as Draco steeled his mind against her, remember the consequences of her last distraction. His anger was blazing now, and he raged against everything- his cold upbringing, his ignorance, his helplessness, his loneliness, all the injustice, and most of all, Hermione's pain, as he continued violently punching Don. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath, his vision beginning to return as he took in the dark room, the magic sparks flying off him in his rage, Hermione's frightened figure as she kneeled on the bed, crying. Before he could complete his surveyal of the room he felt something hit his knee, and cried out in pain as he sunk to the ground, coming face to face with Don again, who was glaring at him maniacally as he wielded the steel picture frame he had used to hit Draco with. He flung it toward his opponent, and Draco barely had time to throw his arms up before the picture hit, shattering and leaving bits of glass embedded in his forearm before it fell to the ground.

Don was standing now, and again, kicking Draco in any place that looked like it might hurt. Draco quickly manoeuvred himself behind the bed and then sprung to his feet again, and with one final spurt of anger, flew at Don, knocking the man into the wall and holding him up against it with his hands around his neck. Don still laughed, weakly, though his blood-shot eyes bulged, his body screaming for oxygen. He didn't even bother to fight Draco, the golden-haired boy whose hands were like vices now. Slowly, his brain was shutting down, lights switching off one by one.

Every muscle in Draco's body was tense, expecting Don's blow any second, his retaliation. Instead he felt nails raking down his back, small hands around his own neck, pulling at his arms. Slowly, slowly, he backs away. _Hermione_.

She is sobbing, pointing at him accusingly, and his blood pounds so loudly in his ears that he cannot hear her words. He sits on the bed, watching dully as she crouches over Don's fallen body. She turns away finally, faces him, sitting on the ground and crying. He wants to go to her, but every iota of energy he had has left him now, as his heartbeat slows, and the dark spots finally leave his vision, and he can hear now, his own harsh breathing, Hermione's soft whimpering. He can feel now too- all the pain in his body from Don's beating, the pain in his hands from his reprisal. His muscles are aching. He can feel Hermione's fear, her confusion as if it were her own. Finally she comes to him, toppling him on the bed as she clings to him, and he holds her as they lie together.

"You could've killed him. You could've killed him. Oh Draco, you almost killed him." She whispers, her words like chirping birds at dawn, awakening him slowly. He looks at her, even as she holds tighter and tighter to his body, he can feel her withdrawing, the reproach in her eyes. With one final squeeze, she gets up, looking down at him, bruised and weary on her bed, before turning away. She is scurrying about her room, grabbing clothes and books. And she is crying again, not looking at him or her Uncle, who still lies unconscious on the floor.

Now the world is in full swing again, and Draco is alert.

"What are you doing?" Hermione looks up, startled by his sudden words.

"Leaving." She says, drawing a sob-like laugh from him.

"Where will you go? Come home with me Hermione. I love you." He rubs his forehead, tired. She sighs.

"You go home, Draco. I'm going somewhere else. Away. Away from you, away from Don." And with an eerily cheerful pop, she Disapparates.

Draco is alone in an unfamiliar place. He looks at Don, lying next to the metal picture frame. Mechanically he picks it up, brushes some shards of glass from it. The picture inside, still intact, is one of Hermione as a young girl. Smiling, in a field of flowers, still innocent, still happy, despite the few remaining shards of glass covering the photo.

She is much older now. Her eyes don't shine most of the time- only when they are alone. She doesn't smile often. Her body has been used, filled up with the anger and violence of men around her, and now honed into a weapon for their disputes. Even her image, smiling and young, is used to destroy.

As she is slowly destroyed herself.

* * *

The Burrow is lit up when she arrives at the door, and laughter comes out of an open window. She doesn't knock, doesn't need to. And for now, she won't need to explain her sudden arrival, her trampled appearance. Arms come around her, Ginny's arms, Molly's arms, even Esmé's arms, and there is something about her, something that tells them that their own kind has harmed her, that causes Ron and Harry to hang back, remorse in their eyes. A cursed kind of understanding. What they have seen out of the corner of their eyes for so long now looks them squarely in the face.

* * *

Draco paces. Like his muscles screaming at him to run, to fly, his mind is screaming at him too. Leave the Manor. Escape. His being is tearing down the middle. _Look for her, find her. No, no, stay here. She needs time. _

Like a caged animal, every breath is borrowed from the air, he is a guest in this world, a guest and a prisoner until he can be with her, tell her, explain. He has created this cage with his anger, his years of pride and his stupid ways of hurting others, hurting _her_, and not allowing himself to understand the consequences. Not allowing himself to realize the small ways in which he is subtly becoming his father, and that even as he rails against that man, he rails against himself.

* * *

Finally, Ron and Harry appear at her bedside. She wasn't sleeping anyway. _What will she do when she must go back to school? Face him? _

Harry stands at the door awkwardly, as Ron sits on her bed, the lamp switched on. She smiles at him, helplessly, as she watches him cry.

Why does he cry?

"No, no. Nothing is your fault, Ron. I love you, I love Harry! Neither of you would either hurt me, you _protect _me." She smiles again, confused. "What could you have done? I just make men do this to me, it isn't you. It's evil, evil within me."

Now Harry's face is tear-streaked too. Hermione doesn't remember seeing either of them cry before, only after Sirius…

Why do they cry?

It makes her feel guilty. Now what has she done? Now her whole story is known, now they know what she is, what she has lived with all these years. During the day, Ginny's sympathy is like a warm blanket, Esmé's confused pity like a weight. Ginny knows her. Esmé doesn't know her, doesn't understand what it is not to fight. To love too much for your own good.

"Listen guys, this _isn't_ your fault, it's mine! I just need some time. To make myself better, so I won't do it again." Ron laughs hollowly, and finally speaks.

"Hermione, you aren't evil. _Voldemort_ is evil. _Pettigrew_ is evil. You're a victim! You have no control over what's happened. How can an eight-year-old child know? Understand?" He won't look at her, wills her not to see the tears rising again. Why should she carry the burden of his remorse as well? Ron has been raised with honor. Ron understands what is right, what is justice. Wars teach those lessons. Fathers who have battled. Mothers who have been captured by the enemy. Times in the past that are silent, gaps in family stories, missing faces from photo albums. These things have taught him who he can blame.

Hermione's throat tightens. His words raise a little thrill in her. A little part that wants to believe.

* * *

AN: I know I've said there are going to be 25 chapters and an epilogue in this story, but it seems I will have to draw it out a little longer- my regrets! There is simply too much packed into each chapter, so I am going to split them up from here on. I have to end them where they ask to be ended. Hope to update again soon. 


	24. Complications

**Terrifié**

Chapter Twenty-Four Complications

**Last Time:**

"Hermione, you aren't evil. _Voldemort_ is evil. _Pettigrew_ is evil. You're a victim! You have no control over what's happened. How can an eight-year-old child know? Understand?" He won't look at her, wills her not to see the tears rising again. Why should she carry the burden of his remorse as well? Ron has been raised with honor. Ron understands what is right, what is justice. Wars teach those lessons. Fathers who have battled. Mothers who have been captured by the enemy. Times in the past that are silent, gaps in family stories, missing faces from photo albums. These things have taught him who he can blame.

Hermione's throat thickens. His words raise a little thrill in her. A little part that wants to believe.

TBC

* * *

The Welcome Back feast was dragging on. Harry, Ron and Ginny continually glanced at Hermione, who smiled at them wanly, in a semblance of reassurance.

_I'm fine._

Draco wasn't there. Every time she thought of him her heart clenched unbearably, but his absence kept him on her mind perhaps _more _than his presence would have. Was he with his parents? At the Manor? Wandering around Muggle London? Was he looking for her?

Would he look for her? Or just accept her rejection? She wanted him so badly that a constant battle was waged within her.

She loved him. At least she knew that. But did he love her? Really love her? Or was it all just another of his power games? She didn't want to begin another relationship that could go down the same path as her relationship with Don. She could still feel Draco's hands on her neck, that night he had called her a whore. Testing her, hurting her. She could still feel the shock as her fingers had first fallen upon the golden chain. _Property of Draco Evan Malfoy._ He was capable of hurting her purposefully. He had done it before. What was to stop him from doing it again? He had released her from his ownership, that night when he had ripped the medallion off, flung it away. Hermione's face flushed as she felt it's weight pressing against her chest even now- she had put it on again, though it was now powerless, as soon as she had got to the Burrow. But had he merely begun some other kind of ownership that night? Another form of control over her?

What is love but a binding tie between two people? A new reason to feel guilt, a new reason to hurt. A new reason to let herself be abused, over and over again. A vicious cycle. Hadn't Don loved her?

She had loved Don, but it couldn't hold a candle to the way she loved Draco. She loved him because he was him, not out of some misguided sense of obligation, idolatry, or blood.

She loved his sense of truth, the way he smiled, even the way he smirked. She even loved his cruelty, bred into him the same way it had been bred into herself, through years of abuse. The difference lay in how they each channelled their cruelty- he scorned those around him, hurt people in an effort to understand his childhood. Whereas she- she turned that cruelty upon herself. On the inside, they were very similar- wounded, confused children. Except Draco had taken leaps and bounds in the past year. He was coming to terms with his past, growing up, coming into his own. He wasn't a little boy anymore.

But Hermione, despite everything she had suffered, still felt very much like a little girl. A little girl who didn't need any more pain in her life. A little girl who didn't need Draco Malfoy- hopefully.

* * *

Draco was late to the Welcoming Feast. Part of the reason was that his house elves had been slow, and Crabbe had been asking questions again, and the latch on his trunk had broken, and he spilled ink down his robe, and Blaise wanted help with a project and… you get the idea.

But the other reason was that he was really dreading seeing Hermione. Esmé had filled him in on her whereabouts as soon as she had arrived at the Burrow, saving him countless hours of worry and pointless searching. He had decided to let her have some time to herself, if that was what she wanted- but he didn't plan on letting her have much more.

He finally buttoned the last button on his fresh robe, gave his collar a rough jerk, and stormed off towards the Great Hall.

* * *

Hermione looked up when she heard the quiet creak of the door, almost indistinguishable amongst the noise of the boisterous Hogwarts students. Unless you were listening.

Her eyes found Draco, and then she hurriedly assumed a position of studied ease, grabbing a bread roll and finally listening to the story Harry had been telling for the past few minutes. She moved closer to Ron out of habit, leaning against him as she listened to the story. He glanced down at her, sensing her discomfort, her need for his protection. But as his eyes fell on the blond Slytherin making his way towards the Gryffindor table, he decided that he'd let this one play out on it's own.

Harry finished his story, and Hermione and he spotted Draco at the same time. A pocket of silence fell among the three friends, while the noise of their peers continued on. Draco finally reached the table, and came around, until he was standing directly behind them. The trio turned to face him, Harry and Ron mumbling hellos, to which he politely nodded, his eyes not leaving Hermione. She looked him over quickly despite herself, searching for any sign that Don had injured him seriously.

"I need to talk to you, Hermione." Draco said simply, aware that the Gryffindor table had gone eerily quiet, though the students kept their eyes on their plates. Hermione didn't know what to say, especially not in front of all of these students.

She followed his black robes out of the hall with a whispered "I'll be right back" to her friends, her eyes downcast.

"Let's go somewhere private." Draco suggested, glancing at the stray students that trickled in and out of the hall. He had already taken a few steps before he turned back and saw Hermione standing quite still, staring at him.

"I don't want to talk to you. It's over between us." Hermione said, stating the words precisely, unfamiliarly, like she read from a textbook. Draco took her hand and led her a few steps until they stood out of sight of the Hall entrance.

"You can't just do this without even talking to me first. You can't, Hermione." He said, his brow furrowed.

"I don't have to explain anything to you." She said, her voice suddenly deepening with emotion as she turned away. Draco grabbed her arm, jerking her to a stop.

"Don't act like a fool! This isn't some stupid little thing like everything else. This is real, Hermione, you have to deal with it. Deal with me."

"Let go!" Hermione avoided his words, tugging her arm. His grip tightened.

"Listen to me! You aren't listening! Damnit! I'm so confused, I don't even know what's going on." He was shaking her now, and Hermione felt a familiar icy shudder.

"Draco, stop! You're frightening me!" She still struggled to get free, but as soon as she spoke his grip loosened. For some reason she didn't pull away. He stared at her, his eyes unclouding, and shook his head as if to wake from a sleep, and then he let his hand fall away from her arm.

"Sorry. I'm sorry Hermione. I don't know what's wrong with me." Draco's voice was soft now, quiet. He crossed to the wall and leant against it, staring past her. She went and stood next to him, and they both looked straight ahead. "I love you, you know." He said finally. Hermione swallowed.

"No." She said, shaking her head.

"Yes, yes. I'm _in love with you_." He brightened. That was the first time he had said it, it had dawned upon him like the morning sun. He began to pace back and forth, a slight smile on his face. "I love you, I love you." Testing out the words. Before she could stop them, tears began to pour down Hermione's face. She had been unusually tired lately and she felt as though a huge weight was constantly upon her shoulders. "I love you." Draco had finally stopped pacing and stood in front of her, grinning now. Hermione wanted to smile and throw herself into his arms, but his words had given her confidence. If he loved her, he could let her go. "Why are you crying?"

"This doesn't change things. We still can't be together." She said, closing her eyes and praying that her knowledge of him would pay off. And, as she thought, he didn't say anything. When she opened her eyes, she wouldn't find denial or argument. Only pain. So she didn't look at him. Hermione walked down the hall, and heard him swear delicately. She smiled and whispered,

"I love you too."

* * *

The morning light filtered in to the girl's dormitory and revealed a mischievous redhead outfitted in her school uniform. Ginny laughed and threw an overstuffed cushion at Hermione, making a comical face as Hermione was hit squarely in the chest and flopped backward onto her bed. Weeks had passed since Hermione had last spoken to Draco, and despite his sulking at her from a distance; she was trying to regain some normalcy to her life. Her friends made it a lot easier. She sat up, clutching her chest carefully and grimacing.

"Ow, Ginny! That really hurt!" She said. Her chest was still aching.

"Oh shut up Hermione, you delicate flower you!" Ginny said, pelting her in the leg with another pillow. Hermione laughed, and ignoring the ache, hit Ginny back with another pillow. Then she heard a male voice calling her name from the bottom of the dormitory stairs.

"Looks like we're wanted, Ginny." She said, smiling, and went downstairs to find Ron and Harry waiting to escort them down to breakfast.

The four Gryffindors ate breakfast cheerily, talking amongst themselves about the midterms that were coming up. The owls swooped in with the morning post at some point, and Hermione pocketed a small letter on the same stationary Don used to owl her, but which was actually her mother's, for later reading. From the writing on the front however, she guessed it was from her mother. Before long the first bell had rung and she, Harry and Ron went off to their transfiguration class earlier than usual. In the middle of a conversation, Hermione was startled to find the edges of her vision blurring, and shook her head quickly. This only succeeded in making her dizzy. Suddenly she was nauseous. She felt a hot burning in her whole head and excused herself to the nearest bathroom, feeling like a bit of cool water on her forehead.

She soon felt better and thought to get to class, but she was still unsteady on her feet. Since she had sent the boys ahead, she allowed herself to lean against the sinks for a moment, and read her letter.

_Dear Hermione,_

_As a part of this family, you have a right to know all that goes on within it. Of course, that doesn't make it any easier to tell you what's happened since you left. When we arrived home from our holiday, the house was in a state. We don't blame you- Don told us you had stayed with a friend, and no wonder! He himself was a drunken wreck, muttering on about nonsense and swearing. Of course we know he always has had a fondness for drink and women, but he is my little brother… I suppose I have let him get away with far too much for far too long, haven't I? Don't worry about the house, we've been cleaning it up, it's slow since we have to work, and we wish you were home with your handy magic, but we're making do. Because of this final humiliation, we have at last had to kick Don out of the house. I know you love him and so do we, but I thought it would be for his own good- he's a grown man now. Please don't be angry with me. _

_The worst news will come as a blow to you. I wish I could be with you to ease the pain, and the feeling of betrayal, but wreck our house is not all Don has done. I love him- he is my brother, still- but I understand the shame and sadness which you will soon feel. _

_A few days ago, Don called us from prison. He wanted us to post bail. We would have, but once we consulted our lawyer about it, and… found what had happened… we've decided not to. You see, Hermione, Don has been accused… of raping a ten-year-old girl in our neighbourhood. From what we understand, the trial is merely a formality- the evidence is overwhelming. We think this might not be an isolated incident._

_This is the hardest letter I've ever had to write, as you can see from my tearstains. I am so sorry, my love. None of us could've seen it coming. If you want to come home, or not, we will understand. Just write back to let us know you're okay._

_Much love and deep regret, _

_Mum_

Hermione had barely been able to read the last part of the letter as the blackness once again crept into the edges of her vision. Her throat was burning, and everything spun as saliva flooded into her mouth. She fell, crawled to a stall and threw up into the toilet bowl. She sobbed desperately in between her retching, her face soaked in perspiration and tears. Finally she stopped, pressing her face to the cool bathroom wall, and slowly she faded from consciousness.

If you stare at something for long enough, it begins to blur in and out of vision, to take different forms, to contort and distort.

The ceiling of the girl's washroom spun one last time in Hermione's vision before she closed her eyes and sat up, shaking her head wearily. She had been in here for half an hour… after her brief loss of consciousness she had simply stared at the ceiling and thought about what had happened.

She couldn't believe it. She knew he was a womanizer- but a child?

She had been a child once- she was only 17 now. Still young.

Hermione tried to imagine a ten-year-old girl. She thought of a smiling face. Green eyes, and blonde hair. A gap between the two front teeth. Running and laughing with her friends, gossiping, having a crush on a boy. Listening to pop music. Asking mom for advice.

Hermione thought of a man. Older, dark. Leering, terrifying and disgusting. Revolting, in fact. Touching you, hurting you.

Hermione thought about helplessness. Of there being no escape. Of being trapped. Of being ashamed. Of being violated. Of being sick and of being frightened.

She gathered her belongings and with one last look at her dismal reflection, left the bathroom. She intended to go to class, but she somehow found herself in the Gryffindor tower. She wasn't ready to face anyone yet. She flung her bag onto her bed and stripped out of her school uniform until she was wearing only a camisole and underwear. Still dazed, she wandered into the washroom. Images of little girls she knew kept flashing through her mind, and she threw up once again. She washed her face, and rinsed her mouth.

Her mirror was saying something. Hermione blinked.

"What?"

"I said, you've been sick every morning this week, and you're looking bloated. You aren't pregnant are you?" The mirror looked at her with concern.

Hermione couldn't breathe. Without responding, she walked back into her room and put on her dressing robe. She took out her little day planner and looked at the calendar.

_No. _

Hermione furrowed her brow and took out "100 Common Medical Spells."

She sat on her bed, and reading from page 221, waved her wand above her head in a simple pattern. She waited. A blue glow surrounded her. Hermione waved her wand, but the glow did not fade. She looked in the book. Oh, it would fade by itself in a few moments.

A tear leaked down over Hermione's cheek.

All of a sudden, she screamed, waving her arms about madly as she tried to get rid of the blue glow. A creaking from below quieted her, but no one came up the stairs. She put away the book and her wand and crawled into bed, falling asleep immediately.

* * *

It was ten minutes before class let out for the day, before Ron and Harry would stomp up to the dorm to find her and interrogate her. Hermione ran. When she burst through the library doors, she could hardly breathe. She needed some time before they could discover her. Madam Pince was safely distracted by a huge stack of books she was cataloguing at the front desk, so Hermione made her way through the complex and strangely organized shelves until she got to a particularly dusty one marked, "Fertility, Pregnancy and Birth." She grabbed the first book she saw off of the shelf.

After performing a number of charms, Hermione was sure there could be no mistake. She was pregnant. 6-8 weeks pregnant. Her mind felt exhausted and completely blank. She knew she would have to go to Madam Pomfrey to confirm it, but there was no way 11 different pregnancy charms could be wrong. She stiffly left the library.

Now there really was no way she could face Harry or Ron. She headed up to the Astronomy Tower and sat in a window, staring out at the blue sky. It was a crisp late winter day; the sparkle of the blanket of snow was pristine since the students rarely ventured out in the cold. The air was refreshing and made her lungs ache a little. There was a faint giggling from somewhere nearby in the castle, and all of a sudden Hermione understood.

She was PREGNANT. With a _child_. With a child… that could be either Don's, or Draco's. She was 17, and she was going to have a baby. In late September, near her own birthday. Her parents would be devastated… and the father? Who was the father?

Should she even have this child? Could she be a mother? Could she give it up for adoption? Could she abort? Could she throw herself off of this tower, right now? Everything inside of Hermione screamed at the idea. She couldn't kill this baby. It had a soul, and it was inside of her. It was _her_ baby. How could she give it away? To wizards? What if Death Eaters adopted it? To Muggles? And have it grow up without magic? She wanted to know the baby, and teach it about the world, and love it. She didn't want strangers to raise it. But she wasn't ready for a child! She wanted to have a career, she wanted to travel, get married, she wanted to do so many things. And could she have a child alone? Was it fair to have Baby when she couldn't give it the same things someone else could? No house, no daddy, no fancy toys, no nice car to drive to school.

Hermione wondered if it would be a boy or a girl Baby. She thought about holding it. She thought about little Baby fingers. She thought about rosy Baby cheeks. She thought about not getting any sleep, and dirty nappies.

She had always had a strong set of convictions and morals, even as a child. There was only once choice. She would have the Baby, and raise it herself, even if she had to work as a waitress- or something equally and dreadfully stereotypical- for the rest of her life to do it.

Hermione climbed out of the windowsill, feeling strong for once. She had decided. She could do it- she was smart, resourceful. Her parents would support her. Harry and Ron would. And everyone else could be damned.

She brushed off her cloak and turned to leave, but Draco was standing in the doorway of the tower, about ten paces away from her. He quickly looked down.

"Sorry, I didn't know you'd be up here." He said in the same brusque tone he always addressed her with lately. Hermione nodded quickly. All of a sudden she felt very hot, and there were tears once again pricking her eyes.

She strode to the doorway so quickly that Draco hadn't moved when she got there, and in her hurry to rush past she brushed against him, knocking her bag to the floor. It spilled open, and by twisted misfortune, the letter lay atop her books, clearly visible. Draco stared at the rose stationary, obviously recognizing it. They both reached to pick it up at the same time, their hands colliding. Hermione quickly withdrew and Draco picked the letter up, holding it by a corner as if it were contaminated.

"I was j-just leaving," Hermione stammered. Draco continued to stare at the letter.

"Is this what I think it is?" He asked, his voice low and husky from lack of sleep, or anger, or both perhaps.

"No, it's from my parents!" Hermione took the letter deftly and pulled it out, unfolding it so he could see her mother's signature and not see the rest of the letter. He stared at it for another moment, before stooping to pick up her books and bag.

"Sorry, I just…"

"It's okay, I understand." And she did. But she had to get away before she said something she'd regret. She thankfully took her bag and looked up to thank Draco. He was looking down at her concernedly, his silky hair mussed and his brow furrowed, his pale lips twisting slightly. God, she had missed him. She met his grey eyes, clear and beautiful, and she felt a sudden pang. The compassion and humanity, mixed with steely strength and fervour- this is the man she would have liked her Baby to know. A man she'd like to have by her side.

How could she do it alone? Hermione thought of little Baby fingers, and rosy Baby cheeks. And she burst into tears. She dropped her bag and stood awkwardly for a moment, her arms dangling at her sides as she glared at the floor, sniffling. Then Draco gathered her up into his arms, and said "shh," which only served to make her cry louder. "What's wrong, Hermione?" He said, his voice tight with worry.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, so so sorry." She whimpered. "God, this can't be happening to me… oh somebody help me… I can't do it… I'm so sorry."

"What's wrong? I'll help you Hermione… you know that. Come on, calm down." He led her over to the window ledge and they sat down on it together, his arms still wrapped around her as tears poured down her red face and she hyperventilated. After a few moments he had managed to get her breathing normally. She looked up at him, and her large brown eyes glistened. He wiped her cheek with the corner of his sleeve, not breaking eye contact.

"Draco." She whispered.

"I'm here."

"Draco… I'm pregnant."

* * *

TBC


	25. Moonlight Goddess: Revisited

**Terrifié**

Chapter Twenty-Five: Moonlight Goddess Revisited

**Last Time:**

"Draco." She whispered.

"I'm here."

"Draco… I'm pregnant."

TBC

* * *

Silences are like snowflakes. Every silence is difference. There are emotional silences- tense, angry, exciting, and affectionate. There are comfortable and awkward silences. There are thoughtful silences, and tired silences. Cold silences, stuffy silences, paralyzing silences, irritating silences, thrilling silences and joyful silences. Some silences are thick, and others are as thin as a t-shirt in winter. Some silences fly by, and some creep along. Some you forget, others you will remember for the rest of your life. 

This silence was the latter. It was a flat silence, one that made you want to close your eyes, and swallow hard. It was as thick, hot and itchy as a woolen blanket in July. It was a silence that seemed to pull you down, like quicksand, and make every movement sluggish and almost painfully slow. It felt like an itch in your throat while you were in an important lecture. You desperately needed to cough, but you held it back for as long as humanly possible, hoping it would go away. But it didn't go away. And finally you would hunch down, cover your mouth and try to make your cough as quiet as possible.

"I just found out today." Hermione was the first to break the silence. Draco looked up at her, startled as though from a dream or enchantment of some type. His eyes showed only confusion.

Her story came out in shards and memories, facts and impressions. Eventually he managed to piece it all together. Having waved Harry and Ron away when they finally showed up, looking for her, he had listened to her broken sentences until his mind began to ache. Don… the little girl… the baby… it was all so much to absorb. Hermione had fallen silent, and Draco looked down at her once again.

"The baby is just as much my problem as yours. I'll help you Hermione, of course. How could you think you'd have to do it on your own? There'll be plenty of money, and I want to be there as much as possible…" Hermione was laughing lightly, her face buried in her hands.

"Shh. Shh. God, don't tease me like that." She reprimanded, smiling at him wanly. Her lips quivered as she said, "It may not be yours."

Draco hadn't even thought about Don. He stood abruptly, and began pacing the room. Hermione watched him tiredly from the window. His head was spinning. After a few minutes of silence he spoke, his voice sounding distant in the cold room.

"Well, mine or his, that man will never be near the child." Hermione looked up. The stone in his voice was indisputable. She simply nodded. _Of course_. Draco paced feverishly for another moment, and Hermione followed his progress, almost falling to sleep. She had never felt so drained before in her whole life. All of a sudden Draco was kneeling in front of her. Hermione blinked and looked into his passionate looking grey eyes. "I don't care who the father is, I want to help raise it." He said, his voice soft now, sincere… hopeful.

For the millionth time that day, Hermione felt tears well in her eyes. She blinked them back. She wasn't sure if she knew any man who would agree to raise and support a baby that may not even be his with the woman who broke his heart. Maybe Ron or Harry… but even they would give it more thought.

"Thank-you, Draco. But I think you're taking on too much. You may not feel that way in 7 months." She said softly, touching his hand.

"Hermione, this isn't going to change or go away. I'm not going to change or go away either. This isn't a decision for me, really- it's what I have to do."

"Pride." She shook her head- quickly, abortively.

"Honour. But that's only an added incentive. I still love you Hermione. I think I always will."

"Do you really love me?"

"I loved you enough to let you go." Hermione smiled as his logic mirrored her own. All of a sudden everything seemed animated, every colour more brilliant, the cold more biting, and the sound of their breathing louder. Their eyes locked. "I loved you enough to convince my parents to let me marry you. Enough to fly halfway across the country for you, to fight for you, to forget years of training, my background, the basis of my life, on a whim, for you. I love you enough to think about you every day, and dream about you every night, and I love you enough not to be with you despite that. Whether you return my love or not." Hermione swallowed and looked away from his intense gaze, her cheeks flushing pink.

"I'm going to be a teen mother. I'm going to be fat and pregnant, and then I'll have Baby, and be tired and haggard and…"

"Hermione."

"Draco, don't you understand that I love you too? Of course I love you. But…"

"But _what_! You want to make us both miserable and alone instead?"

"You'll forget about me soon enough, and then you'll be happy not to be with some woman with a baby, and out dating and finding someone else." Hermione fidgeted. "We'd hurt each other, Draco, we both have so much baggage, and…"

"Everybody hurts everybody. It's part of life. Just because we're young doesn't mean we're stupid. I'm not stupid and neither are you. Look me in the eye and tell me this isn't real love. Tell me it will go away in a few years. Tell me you can live without me."

Hermione looked Draco in the eye and said, "I can live… I can live without… I… fuck. Why are you doing this to me?"

"Why are you doing this to us?"

"Stop twisting my words!"

"Stop twisting our relationship." It was as if the world had sped up and they were both laughing now, blubbering stupidly at each other.

"You can't take on this responsibility." Hermione insisted.

"_You_ can't take on this responsibility!" Draco countered.

"It's too hard."

"Being apart is much harder."

"You don't know anything about children."

"Oh and you do?"

"Exactly!"

"We'll learn together."

"What if we fight?"

"We always fight."

"We'll scar Baby!"

"Everyone fights! At least it's only because we love each other so much."

"Just STOP throwing my words back at me!"

"Then just MARRY ME!"

"FINE!"

"GOOD!"

"Oh God, no, we're 17, we're…"

"In love?"

"Yes. I love you, Draco. Merlin, I love you."

"I know."

"Everyone's going to freak out."

"Everyone always freaks out."

"What if the baby is Don's?"

"It will be a baby, it will be a chance to start anew, and it will be innocent."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Are we going to be ok?"

"_Yes_."

* * *

Hermione was half-inclined to simply throw the newest letter from her parents out, rather than read it. Considering the way things had been going lately, it couldn't be great news. Of course she was happy about Draco, and Harry and Ron's continuing support of her and of her relationship with Draco, and their seemingly easy acceptance of her pregnancy… but things seemed dismal at the moment. So when the owl dropped the familiar stationary on her plate at breakfast the morning after her reunion with Draco, she grimaced in apprehension. Sighing, she picked it up, and with sudden inspiration, waved to Draco and signaled him to follow her out of the Great Hall. She smiled reassuringly as he showed signs of worry. It was good not to be alone anymore. 

"I just got another letter from my parents… I thought we could read it together." Hermione told him once they were outside the massive doors. He kissed the top of her head and she smiled at how comfortable they were together, as if they'd never spent the painful weeks apart. Sometimes it felt like they were two pieces of one puzzle.

"Of course." He took the envelope from her, deftly opened it and handed her the letter. Hermione opened it and barely glanced at it before handing it back, preferring him to read it to her. He understood immediately.

"_Dear sweetheart,_

_I don't want to overwhelm you, but I have more news regarding Don. It seems the little girl who brought the charges has had some kind of breakdown and is incapable of testifying. Her parents are adamant that she not be involved in the trial in any manner. Don's lawyer has insisted that her statements given to the police be excluded from the case since she's not a stable and reliable witness, and brought in a psychologist to testify that girls this age often fabricate stories for attention or love…. the case against Don looks a lot weaker than we originally thought- all of this has happened and it's just the pre-trial. It's looking likely that the charges will be dropped or at least the case postponed until the girl is older. _

_I don't know whether this is good or bad news to you, since you still haven't written me! Are you alright? Please let me know darling, I'm concerned… ever since we left at Christmas I've had this terrible worry in my heart over you… I hope it's unsubstantiated._

_Love,_

_Mum xoxo_"

Draco had paused periodically in his reading to look at her, but Hermione simply stared straight ahead. When he finished she cuddled into him and closed her eyes. After a few moments he spoke again.

"So what are you going to do?"

"What?" She asked, still staring straight ahead.

"What are you going to do about Don?" Hermione blinked.

"Nothing?" She finally looked up at him, searching his eyes. He looked away.

"Nothing? He raped a little girl, Hermione!" Draco seemed suddenly enraged as he moved away from her. Hermione stared at him in shock and bewilderment.

"It wasn't proven!" She cried. Draco shot her a look. "He… I don't… It's none of my concern." She finished weakly, still trying to figure out Draco's angle.

"None of your concern? Listen Hermione, I know you love Don in some strange way, and I know you want to protect him. But it's not just about you and him anymore. He's never going to touch you again. That part of your life is over. Stop thinking like a victim. Think about the baby. Think about that little girl. And think about all the little girls Don can do this to." Draco was pacing back and forth now, although he maintained eye contact with her. His manner was so intense he was practically emitting sparks.

"But Draco… you're right. If I go back to him he won't touch those other girls." Hermione was still struggling to accept this new way of thinking about the situation but what Draco had said was right. She was the one who knew about Don's behaviour, she had to protect others.

"Merlin help me!" He half-shouted, stopping in front of her and putting his hands on his head as if to keep from shaking her. "It's like you have this beautiful, clever mind filled with little traps and bolted doors that he's planted there, you know?" He was speaking in a whisper now, almost to himself. "Hermione, you can't go back to him. _It's not just about you and him anymore_- if it ever was. It's about your parents, it's about the other girls, it's about Harry and Ron, it's about me, and most of all it's about the baby, ok? If you go back to him you will destroy all of those people, as well as yourself and eventually him." Draco was struggling to find a way to present the idea in a way that made sense to her. She cared more about others than herself. She understood the concept of justice, but did not apply it to herself. And for some reason, she cared about Don. If he could just make her understand now, then perhaps they could end all of this.

"Everyone." Hermione said, deep in thought.

"Everyone you care about and everyone who cares about you. Don is a sick man, Hermione. He's very sick. Sick people need help. But only you, Harry, Ron and I know that Don is sick. So we have to make sure he gets the help he needs."

"Draco, I'm frightened." Hermione was shaking. He knew that on some level she understood what he was going to say, and that she was already fighting it. She wasn't ready for this step in the healing process, but unfortunately it needed to occur now. Before the baby came, before they started a fresh chapter of their lives together. So he ignored the pang he felt in his heart as he looked into her eyes, frightened but still trusting him, and continued.

"You need to tell someone what Don has done to you." Her body jerked as if she had been physically struck, and she made as if to turn away, but Draco grabbed her by the shoulders. He could feel her withdrawing into herself, shutting doors, stiffening, closing like a flower in the cold. "Hermione! Listen to me! This is the only way. You have to tell someone. You have to tell your parents, or the police, so that they know how to take care of Don and make him better!"

"No!" It came out as an anguished sob as her face crumpled, eyes shutting.

"Hermione, are you listening to me?" Draco waited until she nodded minutely. "This is the best thing for everyone. I know it will be hard but I will support you and be with you through everything. This will protect us and the baby, and all the little girls. Do you want them to get hurt, Hermione? Do you want them to have what you had?" Hermione practically screamed when he said this, and Draco had begun to cry himself. Silent tears were pouring down his face as he held onto her shoulders like a vice, his face a foot away from hers, which was contorted in misery. His voice was gentle, but as steady and swift as a river. "You have to do this for Don. You have to help him. He's sick and the only thing that can help him is justice. Justice for you, for him, the little girl, and all the other people in the world that have and will suffer because of him. You have to stop the lies and the hiding. Your parents deserve to know what's going on."

"I can't. I'm not ready. No, Draco, no, please." Hermione was wild-eyed, still whimpering as she begged him. Draco clenched his jaw, until finally she was silent, looking at him blearily.

"I know you Hermione. This isn't the real you. What he has made you isn't the real you. The real Hermione Granger is passionate, and loving and intelligent and proud and strong. And the real Hermione Granger loves and values justice above all. If you could fight for justice for house elves when you were a child, if you could fight for justice for Muggleborns and half-bloods against Voldemort, then now, surely, you can claim justice for yourself. Claim justice for yourself, for your friends, your family, for all the victims, and for the baby. It's the only way to help Don. It's the only way to end this, Hermione." Draco backed away from her, releasing her shoulders but guiding her as she slid to the floor to sit and look up at him. He knelt down in front of her and she wiped the tears off of his face for one long, silent, aching moment.

"I can't. I'm not strong enough." She whispered. Draco winced. It had to be done. He stood up abruptly.

"Then you aren't my Hermione. It's over between us until it's over between you and Don, Hermione. Let me know when you're ready to finish it." His words were terse and as he walked away his movements were slightly robotic. He had once thought he could never walk away from Hermione, never let her cry alone-

But now he knew he loved her enough to do anything for her, even if it broke his heart.

* * *

Draco knew it was her by her soft, uneven breathing. Her uncertain steps as she stole across his room towards the bed where he lay, unsleeping. The self-conscious pauses as she looked around in the dark. But for once in their relationship, Dracohad no clue why she was here. To say goodbye to him? Or to let him back into her intricate and remarkable life? 

She climbed onto the bed, and he moved over slightly as she lay down next to him and pulled the duvet over herself. She looked at him, her pale skin glowing slightly in the dim light and her eyes bright, causing him to remember all those months ago when he had first discovered how beautiful she was, when she had been his moonlight goddess. She smiled tentatively, and under the covers her small, cold hand found his. The tension in his body released and knowing her decision, he leaned over and kissed her.

TBC

* * *


	26. It's About Don

**Terrifié**

Chapter Twenty-Six: "It's about Don..."

**Last Time:**

She climbed onto the bed, and he moved over slightly as she lay down next to him and pulled the duvet over her. She looked at him, her pale skin glowing slightly in the dim light and her eyes bright, causing him to remember all those months ago when he had first discovered how beautiful she was, when she had been his moonlight goddess. She smiled tentatively, and under the covers her small cold hand found his. The tension in his body released and knowing her decision, he leaned over and kissed her.

TBC

* * *

She had already told Harry and Ron by the time Draco awoke at nine am, early for him on a Saturday. They went to Dumbledore together and then quickly prepared for the journey. Lunch in the Great Hall was silent as they both ate deep in thought, each trying to prepare themselves for what was to come. The stares, smiles and whispers of the other students when they both sat at the Gryffindor table escaped even Hermione's notice completely until a Ravenclaw came to congratulate her on getting back together with Draco. 

"The whole school's relieved… you two seemed half-dead when you were apart." The girl had said, smiling and going back to her own table. Hermione silently agreed with her, looking at Draco pushing something around on his plate aimlessly as he sat amongst the Gryffindors. He was worried right now, troubled to the point of distraction- because of her. He felt her pain. Their relationship had begun with the two of them at war, stupid children trying to hurt and control each other, but somehow they had grown and changed and now, now they were two young adults facing the world together. He was watching her, as if aware that she had been thinking about him, and Hermione beckoned to him. He stood up grimly, coming to her side and holding her elbow as they left the Great Hall with only a wave to Harry and Ron, who looked ready to leap up and run after them. Hermione managed a small smile to pacify them, but her brothers looked far from happy.

It was time.

* * *

He shielded her from the cold as they stood at the end of the walk, watching the sunset together. Occasionally they kissed, his hand stroking her face as she closed her eyes to the blood-red sky. 

"Thank-you." Hermione whispered. "For bringing me here."

"Thanks for coming." Draco replied, his voice louder than he had meant it to be, bringing them both back to reality. With one last kiss, they turned to face the little house together. They held hands loosely as they strolled up the walk and stopped in front of the door. Hermione looked at it for a moment, and then looked at Draco. He half-smiled, half-grimaced comically.

"God, this is weird. I'm going to meet your parents for the first time, _now_? While you tell them about Don… and maybe that we're getting married and having a baby? That's got to be a bit of a shock for them. Maybe I shouldn't be here…" He suggested, beginning to turn with a grin. Hermione grabbed him by the collar, turning him around with a stern look.

"Not so fast, mister." She said, giving him a little shake. Draco poked her in the ribs and she let go of him for a moment, laughing in surprise and then chasing him as he did a funny lunging run in a circle around the front lawn. When she began to catch up he stopped suddenly, causing her to stumble into him, still laughing. He grabbed her about the waist and carried her back to the door, where they engaged in a slight struggle. By now they were both laughing and breathing hard as they pulled hair and tickled each other.

"Hermione?" The two stopped playing and looked at Miranda Granger, who was staring at the two of them in amazement from the door. She had opened it when she heard some noise outside and was taken aback to see her usually reserved daughter being so playful and familiar with a young man. She was surprised that Hermione looked so happy.

"Mum!" Hermione cried, hugging her mother and stealing a glance at Draco, who was frantically trying to fix his hair and clothing. "This is Draco. Draco Malfoy." She said, stepping aside as a look of recognition and then confusion passed over Miranda's face upon hearing the name. Draco shook hands with her mother.

"Honoured to meet you, Mrs. Granger." He said cordially, inclining his head. Miranda shot her daughter a quick look of bewilderment before smiling graciously.

"Delighted, Mr. Malfoy… but please… come in…" They filed inside and were led into the living room, where Gerry was lying on the couch with a cloth over his eyes, listening to a Rachmaninov prelude at top volume. Draco nodded slightly in approval- he loved Rachmaninov. Miranda darted across the room and turned the music down to a background level. "Gerry, Hermione's home and she has brought a… guest." She said as he took the cloth off of his face and sat up.

"Hermione, love! What a wonderful surprise!" He said, flushing with pleasure as he saw his beloved daughter. He rose and hugged her tightly, and then turned to Draco. Draco saw his eyes narrow slightly as they swept over him critically, but then he smiled widely and shook Draco's hand, saying "Any friend of Hermione's is welcome here. Gerald Granger."

"Draco Malfoy." Draco said, once again noticing a look of mild horror in Gerry's eye, followed by confusion. He looked at Hermione and she smiled a little desperately.

"Well we were just about to have a bite to eat, do you want to sit?" Miranda said lightly, enthusiastically bringing extra chairs to the dining room table.

"Sure, sounds great." Hermione was actually quite hungry, and she missed her mother's cooking, so she ignored Draco's slight tug of her hand and pulled him resolutely to the table, noticing her father's pointed stare at their entwined fingers. She sat Draco down and then hurried after her mother to help her carry in some dishes. Her father was attempting to carry on a conversation.

"So, what did you think of the Manchester United game last night? Do you watch football?" Gerry asked, nodding encouragingly. Draco was frantically trying to remember where he had heard the word 'football' before.

"I love the football." He said stiffly, looking to Hermione in desperation as she sat down next to him, barely repressing her laughter.

"Oh… oh…. That's good, then. Do you play?" Gerry asked, looking at his daughter in confusion.

"Dad, Draco's a Wizard. He's probably never seen "the football" before." Hermione said, rolling her eyes at Draco, who flushed and looked at his plate.

"That's the thing Seamus Finnigan is always talking about!" He said in sudden realization, drawing the attention of the room to him. He quickly looked down again, muttering something to himself. He tried to remember something about Muggle life as the Grangers carried on a conversation.

"So Draco, do you also go to Hogwarts?" Miranda asked politely.

"Um, yes. I hear that you are a dentist." Draco said, smiling as he finally said something he thought useful.

"Yes, we both are. That's why Hermione has such lovely teeth." Gerry joked. The Grangers laughed but Draco looked at them blankly.

"No it's not. It's because I hexed her in third year and accidentally shrunk her two front teeth." He said, furrowing his brow. Hermione pinched him as Gerry looked baffled and Miranda stifled a giggle. Hermione pinched him again, much harder, and he let out a small noise which he disguised as a laugh. "HA! Ha ha ha…" He glared at her as he laughed weakly. "So… I guess you have a felly-tone then. And a television and a toaster and a microwave and… other Muggle things." Gerry laughed and nodded. "That's very nice." He said, once again looking down at his plate. Miranda took this as her chance to begin serving.

"It's nothing much, I worked late today. We've got some salad to start and chicken curry with rice." She said, handing the salad to Draco.

"Wow Mum, chicken curry is one of my favourites. You must be psychic." Hermione said, casually taking the salad from the struggling Draco and serving him. "In the Wizarding world the food often just appears on your plate." She explained.

"So Hermione, what brings you home?" Gerry asked.

"Well, I needed to talk with you guys… about a bunch of stuff. But one thing is that I haven't been telling you a lot lately. My life has been very complicated and some things have developed really quickly and we've kind of… lost touch." Hermione looked at her parents, who were already looking astutely between her and the quiet Draco.

"So what's the big news?" Miranda asked.

"Well. It's _very_ big news." Hermione looked at Draco as she squeezed his hand under the table. "Draco and I… are engaged." There was a long pause, followed by a clatter as Gerry dropped his forkful of salad back onto his plate, stood up, and sat down again, all with his mouth slightly open.

"Oh my Lord! Oh… Hermione… well… congratulations, I suppose…" Miranda stuttered.

"We've been dating for 3 months or so, but we've known each other for quite a while. And yes, we used to be… _adversaries_,I suppose, but… things change. We've been through some really difficult times together and our relationship is very strong and honest and, well, we're going to get married this summer." Hermione explained, hoping to head off any awkward questions.

"So what's the hurry?" Gerry asked, still looking utterly shell-shocked. Hermione reddened.

"Maybe we should wait to talk about this any more until after dinner." She said. Miranda's eyes widened as she stared at her daughter's pink cheeks.

"Hermione Granger. Hermione Marie Granger. Look at me this instant." She said. Hermione looked up and met her mother's eyes. Miranda pushed away from the table and stood up. "Dear Lord Gerald, the child is pregnant!" She said, her voice quavering.

"Hermione!" Gerry said, looking at her for confirmation. Hermione nodded silently. Everyone looked at Miranda, who was staring at her daughter with a strange expression. It almost looked as is she was about to…

She burst out laughing. "I KNEW it! Hermione! You're going to have a baby! I'm going to be a grandmother!" Everyone laughed, the relief making them giddy. Soon the conversation was flowing as they discussed the baby and Hermione and Draco's relationship. Draco couldn't believe how well they'd taken it. Mrs. Granger was practically glowing with joy, and while Mr. Granger still seemed cautious, he also seemed happy. By contrast, his family would probably try and have Hermione murdered when they found out- but why bring that up now? Dinner passed quickly now as (select) stories of their relationship were told and baby stories about Hermione were recounted.

After dinner they all moved into the living room. Draco and Hermione sat in the love seat while the Grangers sat on the couch.

"So you guys really aren't going to disown me or lock me in my room or anything?" Hermione asked, partially joking but partially serious.

"Well, no. You've really grown up in the past few years while you were away, and we're very proud of you. We trust your judgement." Miranda said, smiling.

"What she means to say is, she was only 19 when she had you so who is she to judge." Gerry joked, causing them all to laugh and Mrs. Granger to playfully swat him.

"And besides that, I think it's physically impossible for a woman to be unhappy about having a grandchild, no matter what the circumstances." She added, grinning.

"The rattles and baby bottles are already dancing in her eyes, Hermione. No turning back now." Gerry teased. Draco couldn't believe how… _nice _Hermione's parents were. So normal and friendly and _happy_ and accepting. Imagine if Lucius and Narcissa had been like them… Hermione was looking at him now seriously, and he realized she had finally worked up her courage. He grabbed her hand and kissed it discreetly, holding onto it tightly as she turned back to her parents.

"But… there's bad news too." Hermione said, watching as her parents sobered immediately, straightening themselves and watching her closely. "Listen, what I say now is going to be hard to accept, and trust me, it's very hard to tell you this, but Draco and I decided that it was important that you know." She looked at her fiancé for support, and he smiled encouragingly, tugging a lock of her curly hair. Miranda and Gerry looked at each other, simultaneously deciding (as older married couples do) that they liked the young man. Hermione took a deep, calming breath and turned away from the comfort of Draco's familiar grey eyes. "It's about Don…"

* * *

Hermione sat on the couch now, a parent on either side of her. Draco remained in the loveseat, looking on with a strange feeling of sadness mixed with envy as the Grangers wept. His parents would never care about him the way that Hermione's cared about her. It made him feel slightly lonely. But then Hermione looked up and smiled at him and he realized he had a new family now, and that he would care about _their_ baby the way his parents had never cared about him. 

The Grangers were, naturally, heartbroken by the horrendous story their daughter had just told them. Miranda's guilt, horror and shame at what had gone on beneath her nose were only topped by Gerry's blinding rage towards Don. He wasn't a yelling sort, but Draco could tell by looking at him that his anger was absolute. He had gone completely pale, and was alternately soothing his wife and child, and turning to stare with a terrifying blankness at a picture of Don that sat on the end table. What Hermione hadn't been able to tell her parents, Draco had quietly supplied, speaking with as much sensitivity as possible considering the rage it invoked in him, about her emotional and mental state at the beginning of the year, the incidents of the previous Christmas and her dire injuries. To say the Grangers were shocked was an understatement.

"I just don't understand! After everything we did for him! He's our blood! How could he do these things?" Miranda whispered, tears still streaming down her face.

"Mrs. Granger…" Draco began.

"Miranda." She said, though she didn't look at him.

"Miranda, your brother is not well. He's an alcoholic, but he obviously has some kind of mental problems. He could even be a sociopath. Most likely he was also victimized as a child- but whatever the reason, his mind is warped. He needs help. We can't let him be a threat to Hermione and the baby or anyone else." Draco said. It was funny how he could say those detached and professional phrases as he pictured himself ripping out Don's intestines in his mind… it must be the Narcissa in him.

"I know, I know… but it's still too early for me to-" Miranda was cut off by the sound of the front door slamming. They all went completely silent.

"Miranda? Gerry? You home? I dropped by to ask if I could-" Don stopped talking as he entered the living room and saw them all, sitting frozen. He took another step towards them and Draco stood up, feeling an overwhelming urge to grab Hermione and disapparate. Don stopped and looked around again, a calculating look crossing his features as he took in the tearful face of his sister, the wide eyes of his niece and the deadly stillness of the other two men. He turned to Hermione, now about 6 feet away from her, and a look of loathing came across his features as she shook her head minutely, her terrified and guilty eyes telling him everything he needed to know.

"Don." Gerry's voice was firm as he stood up, but Don's gaze did not waver from Hermione.

"You stupid little bitch. You told them didn't you? You fucking betrayed me after…"

"That's enough!" Miranda cried, getting up and moving toward her brother. "Get out!" She said breathlessly, turning her back on him and once again going back towards Hermione. Don still hadn't broken eye contact with Hermione as he began to back out of the room.

"Whore." He said shortly before he turned around and began to leave. Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, Hermione had flown past them and was clinging desperately to her Uncle's back, sobbing.

"I'm sorry!" She cried, as Don stopped walking. Draco was already moving towards them but it was too late. He watched in horror as Don used all his might to fling Hermione away from him, watched as she hit the sound system with a cry, knocking it to the floor, and watched as she fell to the ground herself with a thud, her head smacking into the corner of the speaker on the way down.

It was as if the world moved in slow motion while the whole room turned to look at her and the blood pooling beneath her head as her eyes softly closed. As Miranda and Gerry ran to their daughter, Draco made a tough decision in a split second. He turned away from his fiancée and he tackled the black-haired man to the floor with one thought...

Hermione wouldn't be able to stop him from killing Don this time.

TBC

* * *


	27. New Beginnings

**Terrifié**

Chapter Twenty-Seven: New Beginnings

**Last Time:**

It was as if the world moved in slow motion as the whole room turned to look at her and the blood pooling beneath her head as her eyes softly closed. As Miranda and Gerry ran to their daughter, Draco made a tough decision in a split second. He turned away from his fiancée and he tackled the black-haired man to the floor with one thought...

Hermione wouldn't be able to stop him from killing Don this time.

TBC

* * *

This time, it was Ron and Harry who stopped Draco from murdering Don.

They had been unable to standby and wait for Hermione to return, and after a little hint from Dumbledore, they had set off to find her. When they finally found her street, they had begun to run as they saw an ambulance rounding the corner and heard screams from inside. They had burst in to find Mr. Granger bent over an unconscious Hermione, Draco furiously beating Don, and Mrs. Granger watching it all and wailing helplessly. The paramedics were a step behind them.

"Get those two out of our way; we can't move the girl with them fighting!" One of the older men said urgently to Harry, looking concernedly at the blood on the ground around Hermione's head. Harry and Ron glanced at each other and headed toward where Draco had finally pinned Don and was punching him repeatedly in the face. They pulled him off, flailing and breathing hard. The scariest thing about Draco when he fought was that he was completely silent. There was no yelling, roaring or grunting- just these two terrible grey eyes staring at you as he used every means possible to inflict pain. The two of them, both Quidditch players, could barely hold Draco back in his rage. Finally Ron punched him squarely in the face. Draco stopped fighting and blinked, looking at Ron for the first time.

"Weasley?" He asked confusedly, his chest heaving.

"Sorry Malfoy, but I had to get your attention some how… I think you've done enough fighting for today." Ron said, indicating the bloody and unconscious Don on the ground a few feet away. Draco looked down at his bloody knuckles, as if surprised that he had been the one to do it.

"I was just so angry…" He said. Ron and Harry nodded and the three shared a moment of understanding. "Thanks." He said. He was unscathed except for the black eye Weasley had given him and the blood on his hands, most of which was likely Don's. He looked at Don for one more second before abruptly turning. "Hermione!" He whispered as he watched her being carried outside on a stretcher. They followed after, Ron discreetly driving his shoe into Don's ribs when no one was looking.

* * *

Don had been taken to the hospital in a separate ambulance since Draco couldn't countenance his being anywhere near Hermione. He rode in the ambulance with her, holding her hand and watching her pale face for any sign of movement. There was none. The only good news so far had been that she was still alive. The paramedics spoke babble to each other and into a radio and Draco glared at them for not telling him what was going on. He had answered their questions and told them she was two months pregnant… that was when they had begun talking on the radio and ignoring him.

In the hospital he had nearly been lost to rage again as the nurse smiled at him and told him he could go 'no further, sir'. He watched Hermione being wheeled away from him and Miranda put a hand on his shoulder. He, the Grangers and Harry and Ron all sat in the waiting room together, silent. It seemed like days had passed in the 30 minutes before a doctor came to them.

"Are you with Ms. Granger?" He asked. Harry nodded tersely.

"I'm the doctor caring for her, Dr. Schildener. Well… she's stable. Though she has a concussion and lost a lot of blood, and she's got some nasty bangs and bruises, she's going to be fine. However," The word cut off the relief that had just been flowing through the bodies of those gathered in the waiting room. "Unfortunately, we're unsure of the health of the baby. We need to wait until Hermione is conscious before we run some tests on her… as of now, all I can tell you is that there is a 50 chance that she will lose her baby. The combination of the fall, and the mental and emotional distress she was feeling may have caused a natural abortion. It's more common than one would think." The doctor nodded his head sadly, looking at them apologetically. No one seemed able to speak. Finally Gerry nodded to him.

"Thank-you, sir." He said, his voice sounding broken. The doctor turned to go but Draco stood suddenly.

"Can I see her now? Please?" He asked pitifully. The doctor nodded and led the group to the room where Hermione lay. The space was eerily silent apart from the beeping of different machines. While Miranda, Gerry, Ron and Harry gathered around the bed, Draco went to the window. He still felt shocked at the impact the doctor's words had had on him. There were no words to express how relieved and happy he was that Hermione was fine… but his body was still tensed with agitation and sorrow. The baby had never seemed so real to him as right now, when they might lose it. All of a sudden he realized that he already loved the baby, and wanted it, not just because it was Hermione's and possibly his, but because it was… a baby. An innocent, untouched baby that he had committed to raise and protect. His baby.

* * *

The rest had gone at his insistence- the Grangers to the waiting room, Harry and Ron to the cafeteria. Finally he could be alone with her. By now it was almost morning and the dawn light came through the window, but he sat tensely beside her bed, refusing food, drink and rest. He grasped her smaller hand in his, and occasionally he rested their joined hands on her stomach, willing the baby to live. The others came in periodically to check on her progress as the sun rose to its zenith and began to sink again, but Draco remained, determined and silent. Harry brought him coffee and forced him to drink it, but he still wouldn't eat. When the sun set he looked blankly out the window. The colours reminded him of her. The bright red of her passion for life; the rich, soft orange of her kindness and generosity; the dark purple and grey of her melancholy streak; and brilliant golden of her intelligence. When the dark had fallen he looked down to find her hot chocolate eyes open, and a smile on her pale lips as she watched him. He kissed her forehead as his tear fell onto her cheek.

"The tear of a slave." He said ironically, recalling the day she had saved his life. Who would've thought then that they would be together like this now?

"I feel ok." Hermione said, seeming surprised.

"You just have a concussion and some bruises. You're going to be perfect in no time." Draco said.

"And Don?"

"He didn't fare quite so well." He replied honestly, raising his eyebrows as he waited for her response. She simply nodded, taking it in stride.

"I shouldn't have gone after him."

"No, you shouldn't have. But frankly I'm too exhausted right now to yell at you. I'm sure you know exactly what I'd say." Draco admitted with a smile.

"You could have gotten yourself killed! How could you endanger your life like that, Hermione!" She said in a surprisingly good imitation of his voice. They laughed but she sobered again, looking at him in fear as she felt their hands on her stomach. "Draco… Draco…" Her voice was now a mere whisper. "The baby?"

Silences are like snowflakes. Every silence is different. This silence was raging. It was hot and cold at once. Hermione felt as if every thought was sucked out of her mind all at once, everything except the baby. She felt as if she would explode or simply crumble. The beeping of the machines was too loud, but then suddenly sounded very far away.

"They… they don't know. The doctor said there's a 50 chance it will live." Draco said, his voice very tired.

"But it's alive now. I can still feel it." She said fiercely. "Call the doctor." Draco hesitated but Hermione pushed his hand away from her stomach, urging him to go.

He returned in a few moments with Dr. Schildener.

"Ms. Granger. You're awake." The doctor said with a tentative smile. Hermione simply stared back, suddenly unable to speak as tears welled up in her eyes. There was a short silence before he continued. "Now that you are we will run a few more tests on you, and with your consent, perform an emergency ultrasound- it's early in the pregnancy, but I think... it's warranted." He said. Hermione bit her lip and nodded. Draco squeezed her hand.

"Dr. Schildener, may I stay?" Draco asked. The doctor nodded and then began asking Hermione routine questions for a patient with a concussion. Draco stood and moved away as Schildener shone lights in her eyes and moved around her bed, helping her to stand. Soon the checkup was done and he excused himself, returning moments later with a female doctor.

"This is Dr. Bridge, she's an obstetrician and pediatrician. She's going to perform the ultrasound." Dr. Schildener said, leaving the room and closing the door.

"Hi Hermione, it's so nice to meet you!" The middle-aged woman said kindly. She consulted a chart in front of her. "And Mr. Malfoy, you must be the father…?" She turned toward Draco, who was leaning against the wall. He opened his mouth but Hermione cut him off.

"Yes, he is." She said, her voice sounding weak. The doctor nodded and smiled, beckoning Draco closer.

"Come sit next to your fiancée, I'll just get everything ready." She said, rolling a machine closer and switching it on. She pulled back Hermione's blankets, and explaining her actions as she went, smeared the clear gel over Hermione's stomach. She chatted amiably as she pressed buttons on the machine and entered data, and Draco replied in monosyllables. Hermione couldn't even hear the doctor. Her whole body felt tense. She just wanted the baby to be okay. She didn't care about anything else anymore, as long as the baby was okay. She clenched Draco's hand as the doctor placed the small tool over her stomach, and he leaned towards her protectively, stroking her hair with his free hand. He was about to say something but then all of a sudden, the screen on the machine flicked on and the entire room fell silent.

Hermione had never felt so still in her life as she watched the blue outline of her child. The tiny baby inside of her. It had not fully formed yet, but Dr. Bridge carefully explained that the baby's shape at this time was normal. Then the doctor abrupty went silent, leaning toward the screen with narrowed eyes. She studied it for what seemed like a century, occasionally glancing over at the machine that monitored the baby's heartbeat.

Draco and Hermione watched her tensely until she finally spoke. She turned back to them, smiling.

"The fall you took and the circumstances of the fall were very dangerous for your child, Ms. Granger. However, I can happily say that your baby is safe. The heartbeat has strengthened considerably in the past 30 minutes alone, and…" Dr. Bridge continued but Hermione simply stared at the screen, tears finally coursing down her face. She looked at Draco to find him staring at her, in a similar state. He kissed her lightly on the lips, and then turned to find the doctor smiling at them almost affectionately. "You two are very lucky, and congratulations - in 7 months you will be able to hold your very own little baby." She said, rising and switching off the machine. She wheeled it to the side and headed for the door.

"Dr. Bridge, wait!" Hermione cried. The doctor turned and Hermione glanced hesitantly at Draco before asking, "Can I talk to you… alone, for a minute?" The doctor raised a brow.

"Of course, my dear." She said in surprised. Draco nodded at Hermione and left quickly, closing the door behind him. The doctor took his now empty place at Hermione's side.

"Dr. Bridge, I'm sure you've read somewhere in my file about the… abuse that I have been subjected to." Hermione said calmly, her pale face focused. The doctor cleared her throat but Hermione continued. "I… I love Draco, and we want to raise this child together… but we... don't know whether the baby is his."

"Hermione, at this point in time it may not be the best idea-"

"I need to know. I need to know. You have to understand, that after everything, I just need to know." Hermione said firmly.

"You're going through a lot right now, there's going to be so many changes in your life and…" Dr. Bridge looked at Hermione's face and sighed. "Listen, I don't know why I'm saying this but… okay. I'll schedule you for a paternity test as soon as possible." She said, nodding.

"Please don't tell anyone else about this." Hermione said. The doctor shook her head sadly.

"If this is really what you want, then okay. But I need you to do me a favour in return. There are counseling services offered at the hospital," Hermione opened her mouth but Dr. Bridge gave her a look, "And I strongly suggest that you take advantage of them while you are able." She said firmly. Hermione sighed.

"Alright." She said finally.

* * *

Anne, as she insisted Hermione call her, turned out to be an excellent listener. It was somehow a relief for Hermione to talk to a Muggle, who didn't know who she, Draco or even Harry was. Not for the first time, she was glad she hadn't been brought to St. Mungo's- the British Wizarding community wasn't exactly huge, and she wasn't ready for a ten page article about her, Draco and the baby in the Daily Prophet _yet. _

Hearing all the same things that Draco, Ron and Harry had been telling her, but from a professional, somehow made them easier to swallow. During her week long stay at the hospital, Hermione spent hours each day with Anne, talking about everything from television shows to Draco, but most of the time, they talked about Don. Slowly, Hermione's whole life story was revealed. From her happy early childhood, to the beginning of the abuse, to the terrible years of silence, right into her relationship with Draco, and now the pregnancy. Anne never judged Hermione, never made her feel stupid or guilty, but somehow made the most astute observations about her life that revealed something new to Hermione every day. Well, she supposed, it _was _her job.

Hermione was to stay at home for a week after she was released in order to recover a little before returning to Hogwarts to finish her sixth year. Although they were still trying to figure details out, Dumbledore fully supported Hermione's plan to return for her seventh year at Hogwarts. Draco had been forced to return to school early in the week but he owled her (twice) daily.

Soon it was time to go home, but first, she would receive the results of the paternity test. Anne came with her and they sat in Dr. Bridge's small office tensely. The two women knew how much rested on this test, and the girl sat quietly, her mind and soul in turmoil.

Dr. Bridge sat, then stood and began pacing again.

"Hermione, I don't know what you want to hear-"

"It doesn't matter what I want to hear." Hermione mumbled. Dr. Bridge smiled gently, and Anne clasped Hermione's hand in her own. Dr. Bridge sat down and slid a sheet across the desk towards Hermione, who stared at it in shock.

"Oh my God." She said, standing. Anne and Dr. Bridge immediately stood.

"Hermione-" Anne begun as the girlstarted sobbing.

TBC

* * *


End file.
